


As Above, So Below

by CaliBDiamond



Series: The Power of Three [2]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark fic, Dom/sub, F/F, F/M, Heavy Angst, Implied Mind Rape, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Light BDSM, Mind Manipulation, Multi, Partial Mind Control, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Psychological Trauma, Shameless Smut, The Dark Side of the Force, Trauma, disaster bisexuals in space, obi-wan is still a lecherous bastard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 148,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24357121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaliBDiamond/pseuds/CaliBDiamond
Summary: Ever mind the rule of three.What ye send out, comes back to thee.The Clone Wars are over, but the war that wages within the Dark Side of the Force has only just begun.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker/Original Female Character(s), Asajj Ventress & Original Female Character(s), Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker/Original Female Character(s), Obi-Wan Kenobi/Original Female Character(s), Original Clone Trooper Character(s)/Original Jedi Character(s)
Series: The Power of Three [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1717603
Comments: 10
Kudos: 33





	1. Hell in Paradise

“ _Anakin!_ ”

Three months.

Three months, two weeks and four days it had taken for the war to end. And in those three months, two weeks and four days the Starscape compound had grown immensely. There were more clones than Iza knew what to do with, but thankfully there was plenty of property to modify to accommodate them. Familiar names had made their way across the galaxy to settle down with their brothers when the promise of _peace_ and _freedom_ had reached them. Some did not stay very long, others settled in with the intention of making Odran’oel a permanent home. All of them were grateful for the respite the former Jedi General provided.

Across the rest of the galaxy, the dust was still settling. _Count Dooku_ had gone missing. The Confederacy of Independent Systems dissolved without his presence and the Galactic Republic was slowly crawling back to supremacy with a newly appointed Chancellor Organa at the reigns. The war had left scars that would take years to heal from. The Jedi Order suffered a great loss with the departure of Obi-Wan and Anakin. Iza’s promising future likely cost them a great deal as well—though her unexplored potential would leave the Council to forever question this. The trio had simply _disappeared_ after Palpatine was assassinated. Mace Windu did not speak on the things that had transpired within that office. He did not seek out his former pupil. They were lost to the Force, as far as the Order was concerned.

None of that meant _sithspit_ to the two Dark Jedi locked away in the office of the main building of the Starscape compound.

“C’mon sweetness,” Anakin had the brunette bent over one of the desks, fingers buried deep inside her creaming sex as she twisted and arched back into the touch. “You don’t have a lot of time. _Better hurry_.”

“ _I can’t_ ,” grasping the edge of the desk with her cheek pressed to the surface, Iza whined at him and bounced on the balls of her feet. Obi-Wan would be looking for her soon. They had a meeting with Tyranus to get to. “It’s not enough, _cyar’ika!_ ”

“You know I can’t fuck you,” he reminded her, rubbing his thumb against her clit in slow sweeps until her thighs began to shiver. “He always gets pissed if we do it before you leave.”

“ _Anakin, **please**!_”

He sighed and withdrew his fingers, grasping her by the waist to lift her onto the desk. Crouching, he grabbed the backs of her thighs and urged her to part her legs further before pressing his mouth against her. Growling when Iza arched back into the strong sweeps of his tongue and reached to grab him by the hair, he curled his fingers tight around the curves where her hips met her thighs and pulled her in even closer. Teasing her clit with the hard little swirls she loved so much, he thought for sure that would be her undoing— _especially_ when she started pounding a fist against the top of the desk and shivering from damn near head to toe.

“ _Cyar’ika_ —”

He popped a hand against her ass to shut her up, sucking at the slick flesh between her thighs until she started kicking her feet against his shoulders. _Honestly_ —either she was holding back on purpose or her mind wasn’t in the right place. He’d noticed that she had been a little distracted as of late. He blamed it on these damn _lessons_ she’d insisted on having.

“ ** _Anakin_** _!_ ”

The begging was going to kill him. He was going to be left hard as hell as it was. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to give her what she wanted just to get her off? Obi-Wan could not complain if he did not leave her a mess. Grumbling when one of her frustrated kicks caught him upside the head, he grabbed her by the ankle and pulled back from her. His hand came down in another strong smack against her already reddening ass cheek, drawing a heavy sound from her that put just the right kind of fire into him that he needed to go against Obi-Wan’s wishes.

“You—” stepping back enough to get his belt loosened and his trousers down far enough to free his cock, Anakin hauled her back to the edge of the desk and repositioned her once more. He wasted no time lining himself up and sinking in deep while his eyes rolled back in his damn skull from the sensation. She was given no time to adjust as he leaned over and worked himself into her in hard, heavy thrusts that slammed the desk against the wall. “— _are so fucking **spoiled** , sweetness_.”

“ _Please_ ,” Iza stretched her arms out along the surface of the desk and buried her face against them as she wheezed. “Don’t stop. _Just like that, cyar’ika. **Don’t stop**._”

Oh— _he wouldn’t_. In fact, he was going to lean over her even more and push her tunic out of the way so he could trail vicious little bite marks all over her back. He grinned to himself at the way she gasped and pushed back on him hard enough to nearly make him lose balance. That was another thing he’d noticed; Iza had developed a real thirst for pain lately. The harder the swats to her ass and the deeper the bite marks, the better. It was something he tended to save for Obi-Wan to handle, but every now and then he wasn’t opposed to giving it to her. Swearing loudly when she started tightening on him like a vice, Anakin slowed his pace but still kept to the body-jolting thrusts that had her scratching her nails over the surface of the desk.

“You’re close,” he set his teeth against the back of her neck and delighted in the way she twisted to screw her hips back against him. “C’mon sweetness, _let me have you._ ”

Iza lifted her head and tilted it with a soft whine, giving him a look over her shoulder that was followed by a soft pout. He didn’t need to ask. He never needed to ask with that look. The leather-clad fingers of his cybernetic hand came up to curl lightly around the column of her throat.

“What do you say?” He growled against her ear, giving the lobe a sharp tug with his teeth.

“ _I’m yours._ ”

“ _Good girl_ ,” tightening his fingers with a harsh sound, he fucked himself into her harder and grinned against the side of her head.

“ _What the **hell** have I told you?!_”

Obi-Wan’s irritated voice had both of the younger Dark Jedi looking to the doorway to find him standing with his arms folded and an extremely cross look on his face. Beneath him, Anakin felt Iza tremble hard and her body clench even harder around his cock. She let out a loud, moaning wail as her fingers scrabbled against the top of the desk and she pushed her hips back to keep him as deep as possible. A long string of expletives followed, muffled by her arms when she buried her face against them again, and she hooked her feet around the backs of Anakin’s thighs to further hold him in place.

“ _Mother of the_ _Maker_ , sweetness,” it was all Anakin could do to not follow after her in climax, his breathing extremely labored and his body shivering as she continued pulsing around him. Running a hand along the curve of her hip, he hissed through his teeth when she tried to arch back on him again and shook his head. “Stop—Iza, I can’t,”

Pulling off of him, Iza rolled onto her back—blatantly ignoring the look she was getting from Obi-Wan—and grabbed him by the waist of his trousers to pull him closer. Closing her mouth around the head of his cock, she hummed quietly and sucked in hard pulls that had the younger man shouting and folding forward to brace a hand on the surface of the desk.

“ _Well_ ,” now Obi-Wan sounded even more annoyed. “While I appreciate your enthusiasm for _fairness_ , darling, we are on a tight schedule.”

Iza glanced at him briefly and scoffed as much as she could, pulling back to drag her tongue in slow swirls against the blunt tip of Anakin’s cock.

“We’ll go when I’m done.”

“ _Iza_ ,”

“He has been working for an hour trying to get me off,” there was that damn dirty look again. “I won’t see him for a week. _Let me have this, Obi-Wan._ ”

“An _hour?_ ” The older man looked from Iza to Anakin, who blew out a breath and turned his hand up before cussing quietly.

“Put it back in your mouth,” he murmured, brushing the hair off her face and praising her with a slow grin when she obeyed. Swallowing the dryness in his throat, Anakin turned dazed eyes back to Obi-Wan and shrugged. “I don’t understand either. _Fuck—like that. That’s it, sweetness_.”

Looking up at him as she squeezed her fingers around the base of his cock and sucked in stronger pulls, Iza growled softly until Anakin was grabbing her by the hair and all but forcing more of himself into her mouth. He kept the pace of his hips reasonable as his chest heaved and his eyes focused solely on hers. Pressing forward with a harsh snarl, he stilled her as his head dropped back on his shoulders and he half shouted her name at the ceiling. He felt her continuing to suck even as she swallowed and he swore he thought his knees were going to give out. Giving her hair a little tug to pull her attention, he gestured at her and took a step back when she finally released him.

“ _Fuck_ , Iza,” he had to blink spots from his eyes as he pulled his trousers back into place and parked his ass on the edge of the desk. He felt her shifting around beside him and smiled when her lips pressed to the side of his neck.

“I love you,” she murmured quietly, nuzzling her face into his hair.

“I love you too, sweetness,” reaching up, he tilted his head back to steal a quick kiss and gave her cheek a light pat. “You better get dressed before Obi-Wan starts yelling.”

Looking over like she’d forgotten her other lover was even in the room, Iza gave him an innocent sort of smile and got a snort in return.

“Starship. _Five minutes_.”

“Yes, Master Kenobi.” Iza would pretend she didn’t see the way his mustache twitched like he was fighting not to smirk. _She knew_. It’d been almost a whole damn year, after all. She knew every which way to twist and press his buttons. Getting a finger waved in her direction as he walked out of the room, the brunette heaved a tired sigh and sagged against Anakin’s back. “ _Cyar’ika,_ ”

“I know, sweetness,” he kissed the side of her head and carefully collected her onto his lap. “Have you said your _goodbyes_ to Catcher?”

“Most of them. He’ll be in the hangar when I go. He always is.”

“Did you have as much trouble…?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” she nodded, looking embarrassed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“I’m sure there’s nothing _wrong_ , sweetness,” Anakin carefully spilled her onto her feet and reached to pick up her trousers to hand them over. “You have been doing a lot of intense training lately. I know being in that headspace so often can rattle things.”

“Being in that headspace is what turned me into… _this_.” Iza winced as she pulled the material over her backside, getting a sheepish grin from him.

“I shouldn’t have smacked so hard,” he turned her and tugged the trousers back down to plant a kiss to her bruised backside, making her snicker quietly and run her fingers through his hair. Watching her pull them back into place, Anakin smiled up at her warmly and brought her close to rest his forehead to hers. “Are you all right? Obi-Wan threw me off so much that I forgot to ask.”

“I’m fine, _cyar’ika_.” Iza nodded and nuzzled her nose across his. After a moment, she brushed her fingers against the side of his head and raised an eyebrow. “Did I hurt you?”

“Thankfully, no,” he laughed and gestured to the boots she had yet to put back on. “If you were still wearing those, I would have lost consciousness though.”

“It was so much—but it’s like it _wasn’t enough?_ ” Iza shrugged, confused. “I do not understand what is going on with me. Taking breaks hasn’t helped. Bonding hasn’t helped. I don’t—”

“Hey,” cupping her face in his hands, Anakin drew her in for a slow kiss and brushed his thumbs against her cheeks. “Don’t worry about it right now, sweetness. We’ll figure it out. For now, you need to get your shoes on and get down to the hangar before Obi-Wan throws a damn fit.”

“Will you walk me?” Poking her bottom lip out as she stepped away to retrieve her boots and pull them on, Iza watched as a smile spread across Anakin’s face and he shook his head.

“You know I will, sweetness,” once she’d gotten the boots on and came back over, he stood and slipped an arm around her waist to guide her out of the office. The clones they passed in the hall stopped and gave light salutes—something they had yet to break the habit of—and both Dark Jedi saluted them back out of courtesy. The closer they got to the hangar, the more Anakin could feel Iza becoming restless beside him. Frowning, he tipped his head and raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” she murmured, shaking her head. “I just… I have a very strange feeling about this session. I have not seen Asajj lately. I’m… I’m worried.”

Anakin’s brows went up briefly before they knit together in concern.

“You don’t think…?”

“I really hope not,” pressing her lips together tightly, she drew in a deep breath and turned to look up at him with a tight smile. Bringing her arms up around his neck, Iza stood on her toes for a sweet kiss and gave his chest a pat when they broke away. “I must say goodbye to Catcher. You know how he is.”

“I know,” giving her chin a gentle pinch, he bowed his head and kissed her once more. “Take care, sweetness. I love you. I’ll see you soon.”

“Love you, _cyar’ika_ ,” Iza really didn’t want to let him go. She hated this part of the training with Tyranus. Letting go of Anakin and Catcher for sometimes weeks at a time practically killed her. She had a strong feeling that this was what had started damaging her sex drive so much. Sighing as she watched him head back towards the main building, she turned to locate Catcher in the crowd of his brothers and smiled when she felt a set of warm, strong arms wind around her from behind as a broad chest settled against her back.

“ _Little Bit_ ,” Catcher nuzzled his nose into the hair at her temple and growled quietly, the soft scratch of the goatee he’d allowed to grow in brushing against her skin when he kissed her cheek. “What were you up to?”

“ _Nothing_ ,” tilting her head back on his shoulder, she reached up to run her fingers along the sharp line of his jaw and suddenly wished she hadn’t spent all of her time in the office with Anakin. She’d spent a fair amount of time with Catcher earlier in the day before she’d had to get ready to go, but her chest always felt so heavy when she had to leave him behind.

“Sweetheart,” his smile was warm and lacked the trace of deviousness that had been in his tone moments before. He knew that look. Turning her in his arms he tutted when she curled into him and shoved her face into the center of his chest, and smoothed an arm down her back. “Little Bit, look at me,”

Iza shook her head.

“I put my hair up in that stupid ponytail for you.” He nudged her between her shoulders and gently knocked his head against hers. “C’mon,”

She hesitated but eventually Iza picked her head up to look at him, trying desperately to focus on his _stupid ponytail_ and not the fact that she was two steps away from crying. Still smiling at her in an effort to keep her spirits up, Catcher bent his head forward and gave it a shake to lightly bounce the curly ends of his bound hair. It wasn’t much—and he _hated_ wearing it like this—but he’d been enjoying the freedom of not having to stick to a military approved hairstyle a lot. Iza seemed to enjoy it as well—though he had a feeling she enjoyed _pulling_ on it more than its aesthetic allure. The brunette’s eyes followed the wave of his hair for a moment or two before she sputtered out a soft laugh and had to look away, covering her mouth with a hand. Picking his head back up with a grin, he pushed his lips against her forehead and chuckled quietly.

“The things I do for you, sweetheart,” he teased, giving another affectionate bump to her head. “I love you, Little Bit,”

She broke. She didn’t mean to. Iza had fully intended to steel herself and lock all of her shit away until she could meditate on the starship and put it where it needed to go. But Catcher had always had this effect on her. He’d always been able to pull things from her without prompt. It should’ve been no surprise to her that he’d keep her from truly hiding herself away. Iza didn’t mean to sob directly into his face the way she did and she probably should have turned away before he had the chance to cup her head in his hands, but she couldn’t. She just fucking _couldn’t_.

“ _Sweetheart_ ,” he drew her in closer, tilting his head as concern set deep into his features. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t felt it coming. His Little Bit had been _so_ damn fragile lately that it wasn’t funny. Whatever was going on during these _lessons_ had such an unkind effect on her that Catcher was close to demanding she quit. Kenobi had said he could teach her these same things. She didn’t need this _Tyranus_ to help. But they were so far in now that it was likely impossible to pull her out. Not without consequence. Still—even if the other two hadn’t noticed a shift, _he had_. Even after her Fall, Iza had remained a very warm person. That warmth had steadily been fading as of late. It worried him at times how cold her demeanor could be. She never seemed to take it out on him or his brothers—thankfully—but she would say things that were so troubling sometimes that he wondered if he ought to bring them up to the others. He didn’t know the difference between _Dark Side Jedi_ and _Sith_. It was all the same devilry to him as far as he was concerned. But if Little Bit had been pulled into something far more twisted than what had been initially agreed upon, he felt it might be important for the others to know.

“I’m fine,” she gasped, eyelashes fluttering as she tried to clear them of the tears. She even tried to smile at him, though it didn’t work well. “I’m tired.”

He didn’t believe her. Catcher knew he didn’t have much of a choice but to _pretend_ to, either. Still, he fixed her with a hard frown and swept his thumbs beneath her eyes with a heavy sigh.

“Do you _have_ to go this time?”

This was not the right thing to say.

“ _Catcher_ ,” like someone flipping a switch, her tone became cold and bitter. She huffed out a breath and gave him such a filthy look that he couldn’t help giving one right back. They hadn’t had a physical altercation in months, but he worried that whatever she was _learning_ might bring that aggression back to the surface. _For both of them._

“I’m only asking because it doesn’t seem _smart_ , Little Bit,” he worked his jaw and grunted when she pulled away from him. “ _Iza_ ,”

“I love you, Catch,” he hated that she wasn’t looking at him when she said it. Hated that she was using that damn _General Tacor_ tone of voice with him, too. “Obi-Wan is waiting for me.”

“You better look me in the eye and say that again.”

Iza stopped and heaved a sigh, her shoulders sagging. Turning in her spot, she leveled sad eyes with his and pinched her mouth shut to try and keep her composure. He could feel how hard she was struggling. Their bond had only gotten stronger over the last few months and she’d taught him how to reach past the barriers she liked to put up. She really was foolish for that.

“I love you, Catcher,” Iza said softly, _sincerely_. “I have to go.”

He stalked closer to pull her to him and drop his forehead against hers, shutting his eyes for a long moment. Breathing a heavy sigh, Catcher pressed a kiss to her lips and let her go.

“Stay safe, Little Bit,”

Iza gave him one last, pitiful look and turned on her heel to head for the starship. As he watched her go, Catcher shoved his hands into his pockets. He needed a fucking drink. He also needed to get to the apartment and find Skywalker. He had something damn important he needed to discuss with that man.

~*~*~*~

“ _There you go, darling_ ,” Obi-Wan’s breath was hot on her neck, teeth ruthless as they sank into her skin. Beneath him, Iza shouted into the floor of the starship and shoved back into the hard press of his hips, pleading for him to move faster. He refused. Instead, he reared back and pulled her up along with him, leather-gloved hands sliding up the front of her torso to grasp her tits. He pinched and plucked her too-sensitive nipples until she complained with a whine and lolled her head back on his shoulder, prompting him to bite at her neck again.

“ _Master Kenobi_ ,” it was difficult to move on him in this position without the proper leverage, but he seemed to do just fine. “ _Please?_ ”

One hand fixed itself around her throat and squeezed until she tightened on him and trembled, her hands sliding back to grab at his hips. Gritting her teeth, Iza knocked her head against his and brought a hand up to tap his knuckles.

“ _No_ ,” he snarled back, easing up the pressure around her neck.

“ _Do it._ ” Iza panted, letting out another startled shout when his other hand tangled in the hair at the back of her head and pulled. Grinding her hips in hard circles, the brunette whimpered desperately and gasped out a sharp sob when she couldn’t quite grab hold of the climax that was _just_ out of her reach. “ _Obi-Wan— **please**!_”

He pitched forward, pressing her into the unforgiving floor and bringing a hand back to swat hard at her already bruised ass. His hips were on fire from working her so damn hard. He’d staved off his own orgasm three times trying to get her off but the little brat just _wouldn’t fucking come_. None of his tricks were working and it was pissing him off. He’d tried some of the newer things she’d become fond of and it’d seemed to help, but it wasn’t enough. Thank the Force he hadn’t put them into hyperdrive. He needed more time than this and he didn’t think showing up to Serenno reeking of sweat and sex would bode well for either of them. Looking up when he heard the sound of a fist hitting the floor of the starship, Obi-Wan huffed in frustration and pulled out of her, flipping her onto her back and sinking back in with a snarl.

“What do you want, darling?” A gloved hand came up to grasp her jaw, forcing her to focus her glassy eyes on him. Choking her further would likely result in her blacking out and he was trying to avoid that. But _fuck_ —he was going to get off before she did at this rate and he knew damn well if he left her wanting, she’d do nothing but whine about it. Blue eyes watched carefully as Iza lifted a hand from the floor of the starship and lightly tapped her cheek. The suggestion actually startled him enough to make him lose concentration for a moment and stutter his hips. They had only crossed that boundary _once_ and it’d been an accident. They’d both been locked in such a dark headspace after one of these lessons that they’d nearly torn each other apart during the ride home. She still wore faint scars on her hip from where he’d bitten her. The ones she’d given him on his shoulders from her teeth and nails were a bit more prominent. But he’d gotten so damn carried away while he rode her that he’d popped her across the cheek while she uttered her filth to him. She hadn’t complained. In fact—he recalled her begging him to continue. He hadn’t. Once had been enough for him.

“ _Master Kenobi_ ,” **Force** , he hated how she did that. One utterance of his name in that fucking tone of hers was enough to stir the pot and make him do damn near anything she wanted. Still, he hesitated with this.

“I cannot, darling,” he really needed to slow down. He was so close to losing it. She kept tightening on him like she was going to tip over the edge—he could _feel_ how close she was over the bond, for fuck’s sake—and his control was wearing thin.

“ _Hit me or get off me!_ ”

He stopped dead mid-stroke and stared down at her, chest heaving as sweat dripped down his face. There’d been a distinct shift in the air around them when she said it and he didn’t like it. He ignored the way she shouted at him, caught her foot when she brought it up like she was going to shove it into his shoulder. Grunting when she pulled off of him, Obi-Wan watched with concerned eyes as Iza backed up and tried to get to her feet.

“Darling,” his voice was rough but he’d done his best to keep his tone gentle. “Iza, what is going on?”

“Fuck off,” she snapped, legs shaking as she used the wall to stand. When she tried to walk past him to get to the sleeping chamber, he reached out to snag her around the waist and pulled her—thrashing—into his lap. “ _Obi-Wan!_ ”

“Talk to me,” brushing the hair off of her sweaty face, he grasped her chin and frowned when she narrowed her eyes at him. “Darling, _what is going on?_ ”

“You won’t give me what I want,” she muttered dully, not looking at him directly.

“That is not what I meant.”

“I do not want to go to Serenno.” Iza pointed her gaze to the floor and pressed her lips together tightly. As Obi-Wan studied her face, he caught the light twitching of the area around her eyes and frowned deeply. This was new. She’d never had these strange tics before. He could feel her head trying to twitch lightly against his hold as well. Something was not right at all.

“Will you tell me why?” He asked gently, easing his grasp to stroke her jaw instead. The brunette didn’t say anything for a long time, still staring at the floor before she finally brought her gaze up to his and lifted both brows in a worried manner.

“Where is Asajj?”

“Asajj?” That was not a question he’d expected. He had to think for a moment about the last time he’d seen Ventress at the castle. Tyranus often sent her out for errands without saying anything to him about it, so her absence wasn’t strange to him. The fact that it troubled Iza, however, was making him uneasy. Shaking his head, he looked back at her. “I don’t know, darling.”

That worried look became one of despair and Iza looked away from him again to cover her face with a hand. The little twitches of her head seemed to get worse until she was shaking in his lap, shoulders shivering as tears started falling down her cheeks uncontrollably.

“Darling,”

“I’m worried for her, Obi-Wan,” she whined behind her palm, staring at the wall. “He is so cruel to her. He has been especially cruel since you brought me to him. He uses her as an example for all of the worst things…” Iza paused, looking like she might be sick. “I know he is going to ask me to start doing it too.”

Obi-Wan was pretty sure he’d just found the source of Iza’s problem. Or at least _one_ of the sources. Her mind was too clouded with worry to concentrate on pleasurable things. Her mind was far too clouded _period_. Perhaps this was his own fault for not allowing her time alone to release these things and relax after being stuck in such a horrible setting for long periods of time. She was so insistent on getting back to business once they returned to Starscape that he thought she’d had a handle on it. Clearly, he’d been wrong.

“You have such a big heart, my darling,” smiling, he leaned in and brushed his lips over her cheek. “I will inquire as to what has become of Asajj. I’m sure Tyranus has just sent her on assignment. This is not uncommon. After all—that is how you met her, is it not?”

“What if he has not sent her on an assignment?” Her head did the strange twitching thing again. Like someone who’d been electroshocked one too many times. _Where_ had that tic come from? “What if—”

“Darling,” he swept a gloved thumb along her jaw and frowned lightly. “You mustn’t bring these thoughts with you. You know Tyranus will—”

“I wish to go home,” her green eyes seemed to dull as she spoke and a strange sensation of static began to surround her as Obi-Wan made attempts to reach across their bond. “Can’t you tell him I’ve fallen ill?”

He wished he could. He wished to the stars and beyond that the Sith Lord would take that as some sort of excuse for his new _toy_ not to show up for the lessons she’d agreed to. But Tyranus would not take anything short of Iza having up and died as a reason for her not appearing for these damn lessons. He didn’t even need to tell her. Iza could see it quite plainly in his expression. Turning away from him again, the brunette shut her eyes and shook her head.

“We should try again,” crawling out of his lap, Iza moved to position herself on all fours in front of him, resting her cheek to the floor. When Obi-Wan didn’t budge, she glanced back at him with one brow raised. “Master?”

“No darling,” a hand slid along her hip and gently guided her into settling down onto her belly, an odd look crossing his face. “I do not think that’s a wise idea.”

“Please?”

“Iza,” he wished she wouldn’t beg. “My love, you are not in the right mindspace for this. We have had this discussion. I will not be used as a distraction.”

“You can’t leave me like this, Obi-Wan,” Iza twisted onto her side and frowned. “That’s unfair.”

“ _Darling_ ,” Obi-Wan fixed her with a stern look and tried not to sigh. He knew where this was going. He knew she was going to beg further and if he did not bend to her will, she would cry. It was something he hadn’t quite figured out was a tactic or just a natural response to being told _no_ , but it felt manipulative on several levels all the same. He hated it and he hated knowing that he’d give into it just to keep it from happening. He did _not_ want her in the wrong state of mind around Tyranus, but he also did not want to go against his own damn boundaries either.

“I hate you when we go to this place,” pulling herself up from the floor, Iza got to her feet again and put more space between them this time as she made her way to the sleeping chamber. “You’re so damn _mean_.”

He let out the sigh he’d been holding and pinched the bridge of his nose. She could also be very _direct_ in her manipulative behaviors, at times. It had steadily been getting worse since these lessons had started and it worried him slightly that she had not yet recognized them within herself. Perhaps he needed to speak with Lord Tyranus and ask for a small window of respite for her— _for himself_ , rather. Asking for anything regarding Iza would result in harsher lessons, most likely. The man seemed to understand that she went wherever Obi-Wan went and that was non-negotiable. If he could somehow manage to pull out of these _meetings_ for a while, maybe he could reset her back to something a bit more tolerable than what she’d become. Looking down the corridor where the brunette had gone, he sighed again and got to his feet with a low grunt to follow after her. He was not surprised to find her stretched out face down along the bed. He took a tentative feel of the room before stepping in, noting that she seemed to be fluctuating quite rapidly between being horribly upset and _confused_. Her head came up from the pillow for a brief second, but she didn’t look at him. She only set it back down and curled up into a tight ball, pressing her face deep into the pillow to hide it.

Obi-Wan made his way over and carefully lowered himself onto the bed beside her, watching vigilantly for any sign that she might strike out at him. She hadn’t been very violent with him lately, but her tendencies to _thrash_ when she didn’t want to be bothered had gotten worse. He had the horrible feeling his girl had been knocked severely out of balance somewhere along the line and had not been able to recognize it. He wondered how _Catcher_ had not been able to recognize it when the clone had been the _only_ one to notice these things in the past. Shifting closer until he felt the heat of her body radiating against his skin, Obi-Wan leaned over and began dusting light kisses across her shoulder. He picked his head up when she flinched, waiting until the tension in her body eased before he continued the gentle little presses of his lips. A gloved hand brushed up along the line of her spine, smoothing across her back and down over her side until it found the dip of her waist and pulled her back into him. She didn’t fight. She really didn’t react much at all.

“Iza,” brushing the hair away from her face, Obi-Wan peered down at her and frowned at the blank expression he was met with. “My darling, where have you gone?”

“You said you did not want to continue making love to me,” she murmured, her tone just as flat and dull as the expression on her face. “I am only trying to heed to your wishes, my love,”

No. No he certainly did not like that. He didn’t know if it was another one of her silly tactics to get what she wanted, but it did not feel like it. She was far too _cold_ for it to be a simple moment of bratty manipulation. He _definitely_ needed to get her a break away from Tyranus and his _lessons_.

“My darling girl,” he pulled her tighter against his chest and kissed hard at the crook of her neck, pawing lightly at her hip before smoothing it across her belly. “Come back to me. Let me have you. That is what I want.”

“Is it?” She tilted her head back to rest it against his, sounding marginally more like herself than the defeated little girl who’d take up space within her body.

“ _Yes_ ,” he set his teeth against her shoulder and slipped his fingers between her thighs, nudging them apart before cupping and rubbing slowly at the slick flesh of her sex. A slow smile started when he felt her shiver at the touch and he brought a single finger up to rub tiny circles around the hard nub of her clit until she arched away from his chest. “ _There you are, darling_ ,”

“Obi-Wan,” Iza twisted her hips and spread her knees further apart, one hand grasping at his arm while the other sought out a loose bit of the bedding to hold onto.

“Focus, my love,” he whispered, shifting behind her to line himself up. He waited until she’d started whimpering and pressing back on him to take her and he did it slowly, pausing whenever Iza would try to push back and take him completely in a single motion. “ _Be patient_ ,”

“ _I can’t_ ,” she was squirming on him even as he held her still to keep her from shoving her hips back. “Please, I _need_ you,”

“And you shall have me, darling,” his kisses to her neck and shoulder were absurdly soft in comparison to how hard he had to grasp her hip. Nudging his hips forward a fraction more, he gave her ear a gentle nip and nuzzled it. “ _Focus_. Find the bond, darling. Reach for me.”

Iza let out a frustrated noise and did as instructed, shutting her eyes and feeling out into the Force for the warmth of the bond she shared with him. There was so much _fog_ in the way that it took much longer than she would’ve liked before she found that pretty pale blue of his energy and twisted the dark sapphire of hers around it tight. Gasping sharply at the sensation that followed, she sank back against his chest and pawed at the arm she clutched.

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,”

“That’s it, darling,” he slid in a little deeper, the hand at her hip easing forward to slowly stroke his fingers over her clit again. He pulled back when Iza tried pushing into him again, giving a sharp nip to her shoulder and tutting quietly in her ear. “ _Patience,_ ”

“I can’t stand it,” her voice shook horribly and her nails scratched down the length of his arm. “ _Please?_ ”

“You are not focusing,” there was only a _little_ bit of tease in his tone. “I cannot give you more until we are complete in the bond, my love.”

Another impatient sound escaped the brunette and she exhaled harshly through her nose, dropping her head back on his shoulder with her eyes still shut tight. Turning his head, Obi-Wan nuzzled and kissed at her ear while breathing heavy, quiet sighs against it until she shivered and her muscles began to relax. _Much better_. The fingers between her thighs worked in tighter circles and he pushed his hips forward slowly until he’d taken her completely, fighting back a grin when Iza clutched his arm again and tilted her head back further.

“Move,” she begged, her feet shifting against the bed. “Please move,”

Drawing back in the same agonizingly slow manner, he pressed forward again and tried not to snicker when she whined at him over the gentle pace. He ignored her soft little pleas for something not quite as tentative, continuing with the easy rolls of his hips and delicate sweeps of his fingers. Despite her complaining, she’d started shuddering against him in almost no time at all, tightening on his cock in hard pulses that nearly had him losing it more than once. When he was sure she was going to come, he pulled free long enough to roll onto his back, hauling her over him before she had much of a chance to yell. Watching the way she sank down onto him with a sweet, satisfied sigh, he growled quietly and let his fingers dance along her hips before guiding her back into the slow pace.

“Let me watch you,” he had to fight to keep his chest from heaving as his eyes trailed over her while she worked her hips into him and dropped her head back on her shoulders. His hands skimmed her curves, sliding up to cup and squeeze her tits while he brushed his thumbs in careful arcs over her nipples. Picking her head up with a delighted sound and a smile to match, Iza pressed her hips into him harder while still keeping to the pace he’d set, green eyes focusing on his blue ones through the bits of dark hair that had fallen into her eyes. Another deep growl rose in Obi-Wan’s chest and he gave quick pinches to each of her nipples, pushing his hips up from the bed to meet hers. “That’s it. _Come for me, darling_.”

The command seemed to flip some sort of switch inside of her. Arching forward, Iza’s head dropped back once more until the ends of her hair were tickling the tops of his thighs. Her hips worked in hard, quick twists as she squeezed her thighs against his sides and threw her hands back to brace herself on his legs. Her whole body tensed, tightened, _shivered_. She let out a cry like none he’d ever heard her make and flooded their bond with the intense sensation of her orgasm, kicking him over the edge with her. His hands abandoned her breasts in favor of grabbing her waist to keep her from tipping off him as his hips jerked up from the bed, a hard shout signaling his release as it shot through him and out of him. He heard her gasping and letting out a low sound that reminded him of a purr, felt her screwing her hips down onto him in tighter circles until he had to forcefully still her to keep her from overstimulating him. For a long moment they stayed in place, panting and letting out quiet growls.

And then Iza slowly started relaxing above him, leaning forward to settle herself against his chest and pepper loving kisses all over his skin. She trailed them from his neck to his jaw, sealing her lips tight over his to kiss him deeply. The sheer amount of gratitude she projected along the bond was enough to make him groan and grin against her mouth, arms winding around her to pull her in tighter. She felt warmer, softer. There were still traces of that strange sense of imbalance he felt from her, but the Runi seemed to have helped a bit. _Good_. She would be in a much better headspace when they got to Serenno.

“I love you,” she nuzzled along his jaw, fingers giving the ends of his beard a playful tug. “I’m so sorry for misbehaving, my darling.”

“As you should be,” he smiled as he said it, lifting a hand to lightly tap the end of her nose with a finger. “You have been very bitter lately, my love. I have done my best not to hold it against you, but you must learn to control your manipulative behaviors.”

“What manipulative behaviors?” Iza was genuinely confused as she tipped her head at him curiously. Obi-Wan fought back a sigh. He’d almost hoped she’d been aware of herself when it came to this.

“When you do not get your way, you say and do things in order to twist everything in your favor.” He spoke carefully, not wanting to upset her and ruin the mood. “Now— _at times_ it is completely appropriate. We do not mind your pouting so much. But it’s when you get nasty about it that it becomes an issue, my dear.”

Iza still looked confused. She also looked as though she were trying to think of a single instance when she might’ve done such a thing. Drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, she frowned at him and gave the tiniest of shrugs.

“I don’t know what you mean, Obi-Wan. I’ve always pouted. No one has had a problem before.”

“It is not the _action_ of you pouting, dear,” running his fingertip along her cheek, he twisted his lips in a soft frown. “It is the things that you say. You cannot tell me that you _hate me_ because I will not give you what you want.”

“That is _not_ what I said,” pulling back, Iza pushed up on shaky arms and scowled. “I said I hated you when we go to Serenno because of how you behave. You become very _mean_ towards me. It had fuck all to do with you finishing me off.”

“ _Mouth,_ darling,” he gave her a look before poking his tongue into his cheek and studying her face. “I apologize, my sweet. It’s not my intention to be cruel to you. You must know this?”

“And yet—you _are_.” Sitting up, Iza brushed the hair out of her eyes and looked him over for a moment before her gaze fell elsewhere. “You speak to me like I’m worthless in front of Tyranus. You look at me with such disdain and it’s so difficult to tell whether it’s an act or not sometimes. You promised you would not _hurt_ me again and still you let him convince you—”

Obi-Wan sat up behind her and wound his arms around her shoulders, pressing his face to the side of her neck. He did not say anything, just breathed a harsh sigh against her skin and nuzzled as close as he could get.

“What would you have me do, my darling?” He murmured, voice muffled by her skin. “If I were to disobey his orders, he would kill you.”

“I want him dead.”

He drew back at the ice in her tone, startled. Staring at her, he tilted his head to try and look at her face, but Iza refused to look at him. He _almost_ laughed. That had been the plan from the start and she’d been the one to put a halt to it. She had insisted on putting herself in this situation and now that it was becoming too much for her, she wanted out. Granted—he’d promised her that he would pull the plug if she felt she could not withstand the torment Tyranus put her through. He’d promised _Anakin_ , as well. He just found it amusing that it had not taken very long for her to break like this.

“Do not…” her voice was shaky. _He’d forgotten to close the bond_. “Do not rub this in my face.”

“Darling, I—”

“You don’t know…” that coldness was coming back, chilling the room along with it. “You don’t _see_ the shit he makes me see, Obi-Wan. The things he digs out of me. _You don’t know_.”

“I know his process well enough, Iza,” he tried to run a soothing hand down her back and she flinched away, giving another one of those funny little head twitches when she looked back at him. He nearly didn’t recognize her with the expression she wore. Her eyes were so vacant and lost as she stared at him, the edges beginning to fade from green to amber. She was sweating, he realized, but the starship’s cooler was on. There was no reason for this. “Darling—”

“Has he shown you your nightmares, Obi-Wan? Your living nightmares? Has he replaced the faces of the men who assaulted you with the men that you _love?_ With your former _master?_ ” The amber in her irises swallowed the remaining bits of green and shimmered a brilliant gold in the dim light of the room. The twitching grew worse. “Does he show you broken bodies of the men you fought to save and _force_ you to look at them until you can’t feel yourself inside your own head anymore? What does he show _you_ , my darling? What sort of horrors does he display before your eyes?”

He was going to be sick. Obi-Wan was almost sure it was half because he was feeding from her anxieties and agony, but the majority of it was the guilt he felt for allowing her to take part in this at all. He needed to turn the starship around. He needed to get them back to Starscape. He could not bring her in front of Tyranus again.

“Who is _Satine_ , Obi-Wan?”

He pitched sideways and nearly tumbled from the bed, grasping the edge to catch himself as the blood in his veins ran cold. He couldn’t breathe, suddenly. He’d gone blind. There was a painful thudding in his chest that made him wonder if he was about to have a heart attack and die right here on the spot. The brush of fingers on his face made him jerk and he batted a hand out, a sense of dread filling him when his knuckles cracked across a soft cheek and a startled feminine cry followed.

“Darling,” his eyes came back into focus and he reached for her, cupping her chin while she stared at him in horror. _Oh_ —that look broke his heart. Shattered it in his chest and made the sickness even worse. He had not struck her very hard, but her cheek had gone pink from the impact and that horrible twitching seemed worse now. “My love. My sweet girl. I did not mean—”

“Who is she?” Those terrified eyes filled with tears that spilled faster than he could catch them. “Why does he show me such vile images of you with her?”

“My past,” he felt so damn dizzy and he couldn’t explain why. “She is my past, darling. Same as Padme is Anakin’s past. I do not know why he shows her to you.” _Oh— **he knew**._

Iza didn’t say anything, but he could feel her reaching along their bond— _searching._ He would let her look. If it would bring her some comfort, he would let her look for whatever it was she wanted to find. He was in no state to fight her. His head was reeling from all of this. Knowing that Tyranus was using her trauma to break her, using _Satine_ to break her—it was pissing him off in a way he hadn’t been pissed off in a long time. It made him wonder what other foul things _Lord Tyranus_ was showing her. She’d mentioned him _demonstrating_ things on Asajj; he could only imagine what those _things_ were. And then there was the guilt of having struck her. Accident or not, he was disgusted with himself over it.

“Darling,” brushing gloved fingers along her cheek, he paused and brought his hand to his mouth to remove the leather with his teeth. When he touched her face again, it was dreadfully warm where he’d struck her and he could feel the tiny movements of her muscles as they twitched involuntarily beneath the skin. “Please forgive me,”

She stared at him with that vacant look again, breathing slowly. After a moment or two, she just shrugged and shook her head as though she didn’t care one way or the other that he’d hit her. He thought, perhaps, she understood it was an accident—which was _fine_. What was _not_ fine was how damn nonchalant she was about it.

“Iza,” he tilted his head and frowned.

“Tyranus hits harder. At least you do not wear rings.” Again, she shrugged.

Obi-Wan truly wanted to vomit. _How_ had he not known? He had the horrible feeling that she was given over to the healers the Sith Lord kept in his castle in order to keep him in the dark, but _Force_. This explained so many things. All of it explained _so much_. Clenching his teeth, he curled his hand around the back of her head to pull her closer and kiss her forehead. He would not be taking her to Serenno. They would be turning around _immediately_. Releasing her, he got to his feet to do just that when she reached out and took him by the hand, halting him. When he turned to look at her, he was a bit startled to see the green returning to her gaze and that soft, sad look on her face again.

“ _Asajj_ ,”

**_Fuck_ ** _._

“My love,” he didn’t want to do this. He really didn’t. He didn’t know what sort of attachment his little lover had formed with that woman over the last few months, but there was a sense of affection there that he did not want to disturb. He also did not want to take her to Tyranus and worsen her condition before he could get it under control. _Stars_ , the way she looked at him with that broken expression, though. Like she was questioning how he could take her out of harm’s way but leave Asajj to suffer. The problem was— _he could not_. Nodding, he bent and kissed her knuckles, shutting his eyes with a heavy sigh. “Get yourself cleaned up, my darling. We will arrive soon.”

“Obi-Wan,” she tugged at his hand. “I love you.”

He needed that. He needed that sweetness to lift some of the heavy ache from his chest. Smiling down at her fondly, he shook his hand free and traced a fingertip down the side of her face, feeling the room warm a little when she leaned into the affectionate touch.

“I love _you_ , darling.”

~*~*~*~

“You are _late_ , Kenobi,” Tyranus’ deep, accented voice dripped with displeasure as he stood near the window behind his desk, his back to the rest of the room.

“Apologies, Master,” kneeling at the bottom of the stairs with Iza beside him, Obi-Wan slid effortlessly into that colder side of himself and took a deep breath. “The little one decided to act up.”

“Oh?” Tyranus twisted lightly, one red eye glistening in the light as he regarded the two behind him. “I expect you’ve disciplined her _properly?_ ”

“Of course, Master,”

“Hm,”

There was little warning when Iza was lifted beside Obi-Wan with all the carelessness of a child hauling a doll from the floor. Her startled cry was no more than a quick gag and her eyes had gone wide with shock. Perhaps what horrified Obi-Wan the most was the way she simply stared straight forward and _trembled_ like she was just waiting for it to be over. She didn’t kick out, didn’t twitch her hands. Even as her face began to color a dark shade of purple and her eyes began to lose focus, she did not fight. He opened his mouth to say something when the brunette was suddenly dragged from him and brought before the Sith Lord, who regarded her with such disgust that he feared he might pitch her through the window and be done with it. Instead, Tyranus set her back on her feet and released her. Iza did her best not to breathe too deeply or sway as she stared up at the older man, head twitching lightly. It was only when he pinched her chin between his fingers that she physically flinched and _immediately_ uttered an apology for it.

It did not help.

Tyranus’ features slid into something more neutral and he sipped from the goblet in his hand as he focused his eyes on hers. Iza knew what was coming. She knew and she tried to brace herself before the fire flooded her veins and the visions of being dragged through an empty shell of a house filled her mind’s eye. He’d chosen Anakin this time. While the others held her down in the dirt, it was her sweet _cyar’ika_ who tore away her robes and hurt her over and over in the worst of ways. She couldn’t scream. He would hit her if she screamed. He’d hit her even harder if she vomited on the carpet again. _Fuck_ , she could smell the musty air of the abandoned house, taste the dirt in her mouth; the hands that held her down were so familiar but foreign at the same time. Somewhere in the distance, Catcher was calling for her. He sounded so panicked. She couldn’t scream. _He would hit her if she screamed._

“ ** _MASTER!_** ”

Iza’s knees hit the hard stone floor, her chin catching on the edge of the desk on the way down. She gagged and choked as she tried to breathe and gather herself back up onto her feet. She could _not_ be on the floor like this. She would suffer so much if she did not stand up again. She shrieked at the touch of hands beneath her arms, tried to fight against them when they pulled her up and gathered her into a familiar chest that smelled like linen soap and seafoam. She could hear outraged shouting above her head, but it was muffled. A hand had cupped the back of her neck, holding her in a firm, protective manner to that broad chest. The fire in her veins was dying down, but the pictures would not go away. It would be hours before they went away.

“You still treat her like a pet, Kenobi,” Tyranus scowled lightly as he gestured to the girl trembling violently in the other man’s arms. “She will not break properly if you continue this way.”

“I said I had it handled,” Obi-Wan was going to _murder_ this man. He would skin him alive with a vibroblade and display the carcass for the whole galaxy to see. He would tan the hide and use it as a fucking flag to warn others of what would happen if they ever stooped to these levels and hurt the ones he loved again.

“Put her away,” waving a careless hand, Tyranus turned to look out of the window again. “We have things to discuss.”

“Where is Asajj?”

“What do you want with _Asajj,_ Kenobi?”

He needed an excuse. Looking down at Iza, who’d started pulling at one of the silver buttons on his coat to distract herself, he licked his lips.

“Let me leave her with Asajj,” he said it in a way that would leave little room for the Sith Lord to object. “Where is she?”

“Her chambers,” the elderly man did not turn around. He simply took another long sip of the wine in his goblet and heaved an irritated sigh. “Do be quick, Kenobi.”

“ _Yes, my Lord,_ ” stooping to scoop Iza off of her feet, Obi-Wan turned to leave the office. Once they were far enough from the doors, he sank against one of the walls and pressed his lips to the side of her head, heaving a harsh breath. “ _My darling_ ,”

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, pawing at his chest. “I’m so sorry, Master,”

“No, _no_ —my sweet girl,” hoisting her higher in his arms, he held her tighter and buried his nose in her hair. “ _I_ am sorry.”

“May I see her?” Her breathing was so damn erratic, but she didn’t seem to want to cry. She just trembled and twitched and looked at him with that terrified look that put such a sick sense of dread in his gut. Nodding, Obi-Wan kissed the side of her head again and pushed away from the wall to start down the hall again.

“Yes darling,” he murmured, trying to focus his thoughts on something that didn’t involve the violent disembowelment of the elderly bastard who’d done this to her. He managed a small smile when she kissed his chin and nuzzled weakly at his chest, unable to ignore the fear she radiated. When he reached the door to Asajj’s private chamber, he hesitated before clearing his throat, “ _Asajj,_ ”

“What do you want, Kenobi?”

“Open the door,”

It was quiet on the other side for a moment before the door slid open and revealed the pale-skinned woman on the other side. She gave him a filthy, expectant look before her ice-blue eyes shifted to the girl in his arms and an alarmed expression flickered across her face.

“What has he done?” A long-fingered hand came up to brush loose bits of hair off of Iza’s forehead and her jaw visibly clenched at the way the brunette flinched at the touch. Bringing her gaze back up to Obi-Wan, she narrowed her eyes. “ _Kenobi._ ”

“I need you to watch her for a little while,” Obi-Wan was reluctant to hand her over, even as Asajj held her arms out to take the shivering woman. “When I return, we will talk.” After a moment, he added— “She has missed you.”

“Missed…” An odd look crossed Asajj’s face before she gathered Iza against her and nodded firmly. “ _Fine_. I will watch your pet,”

Obi-Wan gave a faint sort of smile and a light nod of thanks before leaning in and giving one last kiss to the side of Iza’s head.

“Behave, darling. I will return soon.”

“Love you,” Iza mumbled, eyeing him sadly as she nestled her head into Asajj’s shoulder. His smile widened and he reached to lightly swipe the pad of his gloved thumb against her swollen, slowly bruising chin.

“Love _you_ , darling.” He waited until Asajj had backed into the room with the younger woman before he allowed his features to slide into something far more venomous. The rage he felt building in his gut was burning him alive. If he didn’t get it under control now, he would not make it back to that office before he went into full Slaughter Mode and ripped Tyranus limb from limb. It was a job he was certain he could do on his own—but he did not want to run the risk just yet. Besides, he felt the women in the room behind him deserved a shot at him for the things they’d been made to endure at his hand.

Tyranus would fall. There was no doubt about that. He just needed to be _tactful_ about when and how it happened.


	2. It Obliterates Me, Disintegrates Me, Annihilates Me

“Little One,” Asajj’s voice was soft as she cradled Iza’s head on her thighs and ran her fingers through her hair. “Will you talk to me?”

“Where have you been?” She couldn’t stop _twitching_. Every few seconds her head or her hands would flinch and sometimes it was accompanied by a soft sound that got stuck in her sore throat. She couldn’t close her eyes. Even blinking brought the visions of her nightmares flooding back into her mind. It was hard to tell whether Tyranus had intended to punish _her_ or Obi-Wan this time. Shifting burning eyes up to the woman above her, Iza studied Asajj’s face and let her gaze linger on the scar she’d given her so long ago. Drawing in a shivery breath, she let it out slowly and leaned into the knuckles that brushed along the side of her face. “Where did you go?”

“I had business to take care of,” the younger woman didn’t typically speak of the work she did for Tyranus. She wasn’t _supposed_ to. Unless her master involved the others in these _assignments_ , she was meant to keep her mouth shut. But the pitiful way the brunette was looking at her made her ill. She could feel how Tyranus had ripped her turmoil to the surface and tormented her with it. It was like a fresh wound for her all over again. How long would it take Kenobi to fix this? How long would it take for him to realize that handing her off to the Sith Lord had been a grave fucking mistake? Fallen Jedi or not, the girl’s soul was nowhere near dark enough to handle the things that man could dish out. Every time Asajj saw her, there were new cracks and crannies for the darkness to seep into. If Obi-Wan wasn’t careful, he would lose his precious _darling_ entirely.

“You were gone so long,” reaching, Iza curled her fingers around Asajj’s and rubbed the pad of her thumb along the knuckles. “I was worried.”

“You do not need to worry about me.”

“But I do,” the older girl brought Asajj’s knuckles against the side of her cheek, leaning into them before turning her head to press a delicate kiss to the top of her hand. She whined when the younger woman shook her hand free and pulled it out of her reach, face withering at the look she received when she glanced upwards. “ _Asajj_ —”

“What have I told you?” The silver-blue of Asajj’s eyes glimmered sharply in the light as she squinted in annoyance, a hard frown pulling at her full lips. It took everything she had not to tut at the way Iza began blinking rapidly like she was trying not to cry. She did not want these things. She had not asked for them. It was bad enough that Kenobi had dumped the girl off on her— _knowing_ damn well that his little pet harbored affections for her, even. What a bastard.

Iza turned away again, focusing her eyes on something else in the room. Occasionally, her jaw would tremble or her head would twitch, but mostly her tears just soaked into Asajj’s leggings. She felt so _cold_. It was the kind of cold that could not be cured with a cloak or a blanket or even an embrace. Her insides felt like ice and her head was full of nothing but fog and awful imagery that continued to batter her senses until she was left numb and sick. She did not want to be here anymore. She wanted Obi-Wan to come back and take her home. She wanted to see Catcher and Anakin and to be among the rest of the clones where she felt _safe._ If Asajj would not grant her the comfort she desired, then she saw no point in begging for it.

“You are playing into his hand, Little One,” slim fingers gently pulled the pins from Iza’s bound hair and tousled it loose before tunneling deep. The touch was soothing, but did nothing to quell the ice flowing through her veins. “You will not last if you bend to his will like this.”

“Am I meant to struggle?” Iza took a deep breath and blew it out quickly, blinking hard and fast to dampen her eyes so she would not have to close them again for a while. “Am I meant to fight a man who could kill me without trying?”

“You are supposed to build _barriers_ ,” Asajj slid her fingers beneath Iza’s jaw and turned her head to make the other girl look at her. “Has your Obi-Wan taught you nothing?”

“He has shattered my barriers, Asajj,” swallowing hard, the brunette pressed her lips together tightly and shifted her gaze. “He has taken things from such dark places—he shows me things that are not for _my_ eyes.”

“He is trying to break you. He’s not satisfied with what Kenobi has done with you.”

“He will ask me to hurt _you_.” She was shaking again. The tremors were becoming so violent that Asajj felt her form beginning to tremble as well. “I cannot… _I won’t…_ ”

“ _Iza_ ,” her firm tone drew the brunette’s attention, but only for a fraction of a second. Again, she silently cursed Kenobi for leaving her with this girl. Their master had clearly broken _something_ within her and she did not have the right bonds to seek out what that something might be. The most she could do was try to soothe her, but every time she tried the little brat made attempts to be affectionate. Her brain was so scrambled and fried from Tyranus’ abuse that she’d likely mistake the caress of a knife as something warm and loving.

“Why do you hate me so?” Iza’s voice was soft and tiny, her eyes curious as she looked up at Asajj. Bringing a hand up, she traced the scar that marred the side of the younger woman’s face and ignored the scowl she got in return. “Because of this?”

“You earned that,” Asajj hated to admit it but the little brat had bested her for those five seconds that day. Had they continued their Force-less, weaponless physical fight she likely would’ve taken her to her knees then as well. But she’d had orders. She couldn’t afford to fight hand-to-hand that day.

“Then _why?_ ”

The younger woman scoffed and shook her head, releasing Iza’s face. She was not going to have this conversation with her. There was no point in it. If the girl wanted to continue harboring her strange affections, then so be it. Asajj did not have to return them.

“You confuse me,” Iza murmured quietly, letting her hand fall back to the bed. This made Asajj raise a hairless brow and fix her with a questioning look. As the older woman stared back up at her, she frowned and turned her head away, blinking in that strange way as her head twitched. “I have never been confused by a woman the way I’m confused by you.”

 _That_ was why Asajj refused to return her affections. Aside from the things she’d done to earn her trust, the younger woman would not set one foot further across the boundary she’d set for herself with this girl. Iza did not understand the things she felt. She had _three_ men wrapped snug around her little finger. Any woman with that sort of reverse harem was not worth the trouble of working out _confused_ feelings. That did not mean that Asajj hated her. Quite the opposite, really. While the brat was certainly irritating and pitiful, she’d grown on her a bit over the last few months. Kenobi sure knew how to pick them. She made a good companion and a decent combat partner. Beyond that, Asajj could not see herself entertaining any of Iza’s _feelings_. Not that she hadn’t thought about it once or twice. There’d been moments where that girl had been quite tempting. It was Kenobi’s wrath that she had not wanted to deal with, in the end. Never mind the wrath of the other two companions this girl kept. It simply was not worth all of the fuss.

“I wish you would not ignore me,”

“I am not ignoring you,” Asajj snaked her fingers back into Iza’s hair and sighed heavily, setting her head back against the wall. “I have told you before, Little One. I do not share the same—”

“You are a liar.”

Asajj flinched and looked down to find Iza staring at her, a hard look on her pretty face. Tilting her head, she snorted.

“Excuse me?”

“You are a _liar_ , Asajj. You wouldn’t allow me to be so close if you didn’t feel _something_ for me.” Her sweet little mouth pinched tight in a scowl and Asajj had to look elsewhere for a moment. _Damn her_. “You have _kissed_ me. You have touched me the way only a lover should. You are a filthy liar to sit there and say—”

“That’s enough,” pulling her fingers from Iza’s hair, Asajj began to nudge the girl from her lap. “Get up.”

“What?”

“ _Get up._ I’m going to see what is taking Kenobi so long.”

It took a moment but Iza eventually pushed herself upright. When she had, Asajj got to her feet and started for the door.

“I am only here because of you.”

She paused, turning.

“…what?”

“We… we were not going to come.” Iza spoke slowly, keeping her eyes pointed to the blanket beneath her. “We were going to turn around and go home. But I’ve been so… I thought something had happened. I couldn’t just…”

“You foolish girl,” Asajj turned the rest of the way and stared at her, eyes full of disbelief and something akin to anger. “Your pitiful feelings are going to get you _killed_.”

Iza lifted her shoulders in the tiniest of shrugs, body shivering lightly as her head gave that odd little twitch. Asajj wished she knew why she kept doing that. She’d noticed it a few weeks before she’d gone on her assignment. She seemed to be able to suppress it for a short while, and then it would just _happen_. She could not, for the life of her, understand where it’d come from or how to make it stop. She hoped Kenobi would be able to fix it. For now, her focus was on the girl’s apparent nonchalance over the consequences of her feelings for her.

“You are not to do this anymore.” Pulling her shoulders back, Asajj scowled hard when Iza lifted her head to look at her. “If something happens to me, then so be it. Do not continue to put yourself in his hands like this, Iza. He is going to _break you_.”

The brunette opened her mouth like she was going to say something but nothing came out. Tilting her head lightly, a confused expression crossed her features before something pained crept in and she let out a harsh breath. Asajj knew that look. She knew that look _damn well._ Her master was still holding tight to this girl from where he sat nice and comfortable up in his office. Kenobi likely had no idea.

“Look at me,”

Green eyes flicked up to meet ice-blue, softening slightly though they still carried some of that haunted shimmer. Crossing the space between them, Asajj knelt in front of the bed and cupped Iza’s face in both hands, holding her gaze steady. She said nothing, just focused hard on finding that familiar sense of blackness fogging up the girl’s mind. She could not pull it from her entirely; Tyranus would _know_. But she could tear some of it away and ease the agony of a shattering mind. It was the least she could do. She was not surprised at all that the older girl had started leaning in to her. She let her. Until their noses touched, she let Iza shift as close as she wanted to get. And then she was clamping her fingers against the sides of her face and giving her a dark look of warning.

“No,” _Fuck_ , when had she gotten this close? She could feel Iza’s mouth brushing hers when she spoke.

“Please?” Iza didn’t strain to reach, didn’t try to tempt. She simply _asked_.

“Your Obi-Wan will not be pleased,” Asajj tried not to let her eyes wander over the girl’s face. She still wanted to know where she’d gotten that vicious scar on her cheek. They never had much time for chit-chat when the girl was here.

“He understands.”

“And what of Skywalker? And your clone?”

“They know.”

 _This pitiful little bitch._ She hated her sometimes. She truly did.

“This will not go anywhere,” Asajj shook her head, waiting for Iza’s expression to change. “You get nothing from me.”

“I know.” Iza nodded slowly.

Shaking her head again, the younger woman tentatively closed the space between them and sealed her mouth over Iza’s. The brunette let out a soft sound and leaned in further, whining when Asajj took hold of the hands she tried to place on her face. Slow and deep and disturbingly soft, the kiss set both of their heads spinning. Iza was vaguely aware that she was leaning back on the bed, attempting to pull Asajj with her while the taller woman resisted. Her resistance did not last. Asajj was crawling onto the bed over the brunette within moments of drawing the older woman’s bottom lip between her teeth, bringing her hands up over her head to pin them to the mattress. Beneath her, Iza squirmed and shifted, quietly whimpering as Asajj settled her weight down on top of her.

The knock at the door startled them both and Asajj was quick to jump to her feet, shaking her head to clear it before huffing out a breath.

“ _What?_ ”

“Open the door,” _Kenobi. Thank the Force._

A flick of the fingers had the door opening as Asajj did her best to look nonchalant while Iza stared up at her, and then shifted her gaze to Obi-Wan. The way the brunette bolted up from the bed made Asajj worry that she was about to be tattled on, but Iza seemed preoccupied with Kenobi’s appearance more than anything.

“Darling,” Obi-Wan put a restraining hand up to keep her from touching his face, which was swelling rapidly on one side. Blood stained the fine hairs of his beard where he’d tried to hastily clean it from his mouth. Iza would not listen. Her frantic little whimpers grated on Asajj’s nerves, but even she felt nausea rolling in her gut at the sight of Obi-Wan’s battered face. Letting out a quiet huff, the taller woman stalked out of the room and left the two alone.

“Obi-Wan,” green eyes shifted back and forth as Iza tried to make sense of the marks on her beloved’s face. “What did he do?”

“I’m fine, my sweet,” he smiled as if to prove it, brushing his fingers down the side of her face. He squinted oddly for a moment and gave a soft _hm_. “I see Asajj has been helping?”

A horribly guilty look crossed Iza’s features before they started to screw like she might cry. Shaking his head, Obi-Wan leaned in and lightly pressed swollen lips to her forehead.

“I am not upset, my darling,” he whispered, combing his fingers through her loose hair. “She has done me a great favor. I was afraid I would not get back to you in time.”

Giving him a funny look, Iza frowned. He wouldn’t elaborate. Instead, he turned his head at the sound of approaching footsteps and let out a quiet laugh when Asajj returned holding a small med kit.

“I do not need this,” he grunted when she shoved it into his chest anyway. “ _Asajj_ ,”

“Listen to me, Kenobi,” leaning up against the wardrobe, Asajj folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes at him. “Whatever your plans were for your pet, they need to _end._ ” Her gaze shifted long enough to watch Iza take the med kit and open it to get at the bacta spray and medical wipes. “Her fractures are getting worse. You will lose her completely if you continue to let Tyranus play around in her head like this. _Especially_ if you are not teaching her to build her barriers back up.”

“What are you— _ow, darling_ ,” Obi-Wan leaned away from the bacta-soaked wipe Iza was dabbing against his bruised cheek. “ _Gently_ , my love.”

Iza stared at him for a moment, frowning before she hovered a hand over his cheek instead.

“ _Iza—_ ”

“The energy has to go somewhere, Kenobi,”

“Do not encourage her, Asajj,” reaching to try and move Iza’s hand away, Obi-Wan was met with a very stubborn scowl from the brunette. “ _Darling_ ,”

“There are broken bones, Obi-Wan,” she murmured, looking beyond livid. “What did he hit you with?”

“It does not matter. I can take care of—”

“His lightsaber, most likely,” Asajj said nonchalantly, looking almost bored when the other two turned to look at her. Shrugging a shoulder, she tapped the side of her head and gave a faint smile. “This is his favorite spot. I’ve lost count how many times he’s cracked me here. He’ll start doing it to your pet if you continue bringing her here, Kenobi.”

“ _Be quiet, Asajj_ ,” growling through his teeth, Obi-Wan shut his eye when he felt the familiar pulse of warmth radiating from Iza’s palm. He knew she would not be able to fully heal the bones and he did not want her to. He could take care of it himself. He supposed it was better than continuing to be in agony, however. “Enough, darling,”

Reluctantly, Iza lowered her hand and went back to dabbing at bruises with the bacta instead. Shutting her eyes when he kissed her forehead again, she let out another tiny whimper and grasped the front of his jacket with her free hand.

“You are a fool for bringing her here on my behalf,” Asajj snapped, pulling Obi-Wan’s attention once more.

“She was _worried_ , Asajj,” the older man bit out, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t know what you wanted me to do.”

“Use your fucking head, to start. You and I both know the protocol. If I don’t return from an assignment— _oh well._ Tyranus will find another acolyte. He may very well have found one in your pet.”

“He cannot have her,” snorting, Obi-Wan propped a hand against Iza’s hip and pulled her in closer, watching the brunette for a moment while she continued looking over his injuries.

“He’s well on his way to _having her_ , Obi-Wan,” coming over, Asajj reached to grasp the underside of Iza’s chin, startling the brunette enough to make her gasp and look up with frightened eyes. “ _Look at her._ When I met this girl she would have tried to rip my arm off for a move like this. She does nothing but whimper and whine and twitch like a dog that has been kicked a thousand times over. I know this is not _your_ doing. Even **_you_** are not fucking capable of this kind of cruelty.”

“Watch your mouth,”

“I will swear as freely as I please.” Asajj sneered at him and released Iza’s face, folding her arms across her chest once more.

“I mean—” he grit his teeth when Iza dabbed a bit too hard at another bruise, shutting his eyes and exhaling harshly through his nose before looking at her. “I think that’s enough, my love.”

“But—”

“Come here,” taking the medical supplies from her, he set them aside and pulled her onto his lap, cradling her tight against his chest. “Breathe with me, darling. Relax. You’re shaking so terribly.”

“I know you’ve received a new assignment,” Asajj moved around the room again, eyeballing Obi-Wan as he threaded his fingers into Iza’s hair and coaxed her into tucking her head beneath his chin. “So—what is he having you do this time? Hm? Which of his little _runaways_ are you tracking down for him now?”

“It is not that kind of assignment,” Obi-Wan’s voice went cold and he refused to look away from the top of Iza’s head. “I do not wish to discuss this with you, Asajj.”

“Ah—so it’s a _loyalty_ assignment, is it?” Her full lips curled in an amused smile. “Come on, out with it.”

“It’s none of your concern.”

“Oh, come now, my dear Obi-Wan,” Asajj’s voice became a soft purr as she shot him a teasing look. “Since when do you—”

“ _Leave it, Asajj_ ,” Iza’s head came up from where it was tucked and twisted to glare back at the other woman. Straightening, she pressed her chest flush into Obi-Wan’s and fixed Asajj with a hard look. She was panting lightly, the tiniest trickle of sweat rolling down the side of her face as she stared until her head gave an unvoluntary twitch. “Mind your own fucking business.”

Asajj’s eyes went wide at the tone of Iza’s voice. _Well_ , she’d certainly recovered quickly, hadn’t she? She thought for a moment that perhaps the girl was finally showing signs that she was irritated that they’d been interrupted. Upon second thought, she realized it had more to do with how _she’d_ spoken to Obi-Wan than anything else. That posture she’d taken on—trying to cover him so possessively the way she was—that said enough. Letting out a tiny scoff of a laugh, the younger woman lightly raised her hands and looked away.

“As you wish, _darling_ ,” she cooed, smiling.

“ _Iza— **NO**_ ,”

Obi-Wan had barely been able to keep the brunette from twisting off his lap entirely and lunging herself across the room at the taller woman. Wrapping his arms around her tightly, he gathered her back against his chest—panting and growling quietly—and tilted his head to look at her.

“My darling, what—”

“ _You stay away,_ ” Iza gnashed her teeth together and set wild eyes on the other woman, chest heaving as more sweat formed on her forehead and began trickling down her face. “I will _break_ every last fucking bone in your body. I swear I will.”

“Get her out, Kenobi,” Asajj couldn’t take her eyes off of the brunette, a hard frown pulling at the corners of her mouth. “His influence is too strong. He will continue pushing her out of balance if you don’t leave now.”

“I find it a bit difficult to get up at the moment,” Obi-Wan snapped, hating that he had to use so much of his strength to hold the brunette back. “Iza— _darling_ , please,”

Iza pushed back against his chest, knocking her head into his in what was meant to be an affectionate manner. She’d barely missed one of the bruises on his face and she leaned into him so hard that he could feel the scar beneath his clothes give a light throb of protest at the weight. Still, she growled and twitched, tipping her head just enough to skim her cheek against his.

“ _Mine_ ,” her eyes never left Asajj’s as she said it and the other woman almost laughed. What a fucking _display_ this was. It was almost tempting to see how far she might take the little act.

“Yours, darling,” Obi-Wan answered, nodding slowly. “Please, we must go.”

A long moment passed before Iza pushed away from Obi-Wan’s chest and carefully lowered her feet to the floor. Her gaze remained fixed on Asajj as she moved and as Obi-Wan stood up behind her. She said nothing. She only continued to stare and let out soft growls on each exhale of breath. She leaned into the older man when he slid his arm around her waist to guide her out of the room, but still she would not pull her gaze from Asajj. Purposefully keeping herself between the other woman and her lover as they walked, it was only when the door slid shut between them and cut off her line of sight that Iza finally turned her head forward again.

“We are going home,” Obi-Wan said quietly from beside her, daring a cautious glance at her. He was not at all amused by this little display of possessiveness, but he could _feel_ the darkness pulsing off of her in thick waves. This was not another one of her moments of brattiness. Asajj’s warning of Tyranus’ influence taking hold of Iza on a deep level seemed to ring true. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like that the man had bashed down all of his girl’s barriers and found the things even _he_ wouldn’t have used as exploits to encourage her darkness to the surface for these training sessions. Asajj was correct in saying he could be a cruel man. Obi-Wan Kenobi had learned to be _very_ cruel since his Fall. But he still held tight to the other side of himself. He kept one foot in the Light at all times in order to maintain some semblance of normalcy for himself and for those around him. He often feared what might become of the galaxy should he pull that foot completely into the darkness with the rest of him.

Iza didn’t speak. She’d given a curt nod in response to his declaration, but her mind was focusing too hard on the _whispers_ following her through the hallway. She was colder now. The sweat was thick on the back of her neck and on her face, but she was so fucking _cold_. There was an odd sense of dread beginning to fill her as well, a warning that something was about to happen. She knew this feeling. It always came just before the _fire_. But she had done nothing wrong. There was no reason for punishment. Lord Tyranus should have no reason to—

 ** _FIRE_** _._ Like the rush of magma gushing through every vein in her body, the blistering heat of something that both glowed bright and pulsed with darkness pushed up from the soles of her feet all the way to the top of her scalp. It spread into the tips of her fingers and filled her belly and chest; suffocated her, _blinded_ her. A whimper was the only sound she could make before the visions started.

 _Asajj. **Naked**. Long fingers buried deep in russet colored locks. The familiar glimmer of blue eyes shining bright in a darkly lit room. He rode her with such passion. She could taste it. She could smell it. She felt it in the air. She could not hear the things he was whispering to her, but Asajj grinned with primal delight and pulled harder at his hair until he bit her_— ** _marked her_** _._

It switched.

 _Lightsabers clashed. Red against blue. **Anakin**. A quick flash of an arcing red blade. Anakin’s pained holler made her gut drop out beneath her. _“I could have taken your head off that time, boy.” _Asajj._ “Maybe with my next stroke, I **will**.”

Again, the vision switched.

_A clone. She didn’t recognize him. He wore the armor of a Commander. Somehow, she knew his name. **Colt**. Choked. Strangled. Held above the floor by the Force as B1 droids surrounded him. **Grievous** approached from one side. A slender female figure from the other. She threw him hard enough to pop his helmet. Ignited a single red saber. Drew him back and impaled him upon it. As he breathed a final, gasping breath—she kissed him. Then she dropped him to the floor like useless trash._

The fire receded, left her trembling. The hallway came back into focus. Obi-Wan’s face was in front of hers. He looked so fucking worried for her. All Iza could feel was _rage._

_Kill her._

She yanked the lightsaber from Obi-Wan’s belt and whipped around to tear back down the hallway, fueled only by her hatred. The desperate _need_ to remove this _whore_ from the galaxy burned hot within her belly and she would not stop until it had been done. Igniting the lightsaber, she twisted it wildly around her knuckles to build as much momentum as possible. She wanted it good and hot. She wanted that bitch to _burn._ A wave of the hand had the door open long before she even reached the chamber and she charged in with a scream that had Asajj leaping up from where she sat. Iza slashed out, catching the bedding when the other woman shot out of the way. Red light filled the space of the room as Asajj threw the twin blades up to block the next blow. A hard kick caught her square in the chest and knocked her clear through the doorway. Her back hit the adjacent wall and she rolled away before Iza could jam the bright blue blade into her heart.

Another one of those outraged, savage hollers echoed through the hallway as she leapt after the taller woman, swinging low to catch her ankle. Asajj blocked, parried—but would not strike out in return. Kenobi would _murder_ her if she hurt his little pet. The heat of the blue plasma nearly skimmed the center of her face when Iza brought the saber down in a hard slash that was meant to cleave her in two. Somewhere beyond the commotion of all the girl’s yelling, Obi-Wan was shouting for her to stop. She ignored him. She seemed very lost in her own head. There was little focus to her eyes. She only had one goal: _kill Asajj Ventress_.

“Kenobi, _do something!_ ” Asajj knew she was about to be backed into a corner. If this girl continued this barrage of unpredictable attacks, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep up. She’d never seen a form like this. She wasn’t sure it was a form at all. Iza struck out so viciously and with no care in her strokes at all. It was like someone had given a lightsaber to an unstable _child_.

“ _Iza!_ ” Obi-Wan rushed down the hallway, unsure of how close he ought to get. He did not want her to turn on him. He also did not want her to kill Asajj. He had the horrible feeling that she was not in control of herself. With all of the gentle pining she did for this woman, Iza would never attack her so viciously no matter how territorial she was.

“ _Stay out of it!_ ” The brunette snarled, turning the saber over in her hands with the intention of stabbing the blade _anywhere_ she could bury it. When her hands suddenly would not move as though anchored in place above her, Iza frowned in confusion and twisted her head to look behind her. “ ** _Obi-Wan_** _!_ ”

“No, darling,” he held a single hand out, a worried look on his face. “You mustn’t.”

“ _YOU MARKED HER!_ ”

Obi-Wan blinked, bewildered by the accusation. After a moment, he frowned.

“I have done no such thing, darling,” he shook his head.

“ _You did! **You did**! HE SHOWED ME! LORD TYRANUS SHOWED ME!_”

“He has shown you _lies_ , my darling,” Obi-Wan needed to get her out of this place before Tyranus decided to show her anything else. He’d clearly manipulated a memory belonging to Asajj. He had _never_ marked that woman. “Iza—”

The brunette ignored him and pulled against the hold he had on her, shouting when she began to strain her arms. When she could not get herself free, she used the leverage to swing out and give a brutal kick to the side of Asajj’s face.

“You fucking _cunt_ ,” she spit down at her, half snarling in between heaves of her chest. “ _I cared for you!_ ”

“I did not ask for your affections!” Asajj dragged a wrist over her face to wipe away the spittle, ice-blue eyes narrow and sharp. “You pushed them on me, you pitiful thing!”

“I would _never_ have loved a woman like I wanted to love you!” That rage was burning her from inside out. Her eyes were nearly solid gold, the whites beginning to redden alongside the rest of her face. “You wretched bitch. You’ve done _nothing_ but torture me.”

“Get her out of my face, Kenobi,” Asajj’s voice had gone raspier than normal and she couldn’t seem to tear her eyes off of the other woman. She’d deactivated her lightsabers, clearly no longer threatened by Iza’s presence now that she’d been restrained.

“I will make you _suffer_ ,” the tears that slipped down Iza’s cheeks were cold in comparison to the rest of her. “His torment will feel like paradise compared to what I will do to you.”

The tiniest of smiles quirked the corner of Asajj’s mouth as she studied the older woman in silence. Slowly, she got to her feet and started to walk past her when Iza swung her legs out and wrapped them tight around her middle, bringing her in close and squeezing until she swore she felt something crack. Neither woman said anything, though Asajj’s eyes flicked upward towards the lightsaber still held menacingly above her head. After a few quiet moments, she rested her hands on Iza’s hips and leaned in, pressing broken lips to hers in a soft kiss.

“ _Asajj_ ,” Obi-Wan’s tone was one of warning, but she ignored him.

“Do not let him win, Little One,” she whispered when she pulled back, giving the _lightest_ of nudges to Iza’s forehead with her own. “You are stronger than this.”

With a quick flick of her fingers, the brunette fell unconscious, the lightsaber dropping from her limp fingers. Catching it, Asajj deactivated it and held it out to Obi-Wan as he approached to relieve her of the woman. They didn’t speak, only exchanging a silent glance between one another as Iza was passed off. Even in her sleep, the brunette twitched and growled. Asajj cast an odd look down at her and brushed the damp hair off of her forehead.

“I will not be here when you return,” she said finally, quietly. “Do not let her worry for me. I will be fine.”

“Where will you go?”

“I have many places to go.” Shrugging nonchalantly, the younger woman shook her head. “I can’t tell you where. He will continue to try and kill me.”

“You need to keep in touch.”

“I don’t _need_ to do anything, Kenobi,” she shot him a look and snorted. “ _You_ need to make sure she gets out of this in one piece. She is not like Skywalker. She is not like _us_. Her mind will not survive this.”

“I cannot just _leave_ , Asajj. You know this.”

“You’ll find a way, Kenobi,” smiling, Asajj gave his chest an affectionate pat before standing on her toes and planting the lightest of kisses to his cheek. “You always do.”

“You can come with us. You will be safe.”

“You’re disgusting, you know that?” Asajj rolled her eyes and started down the hallway towards her room. “Just as pitiful as that little brat. I prefer to be on my own. I do not need your help.”

“You know how to find me if you do.”

Pausing at the doorway, the younger woman eyed him a moment— _scoffed_ —and then disappeared inside. When the door had slid shut behind her, Obi-Wan heaved a sigh and dropped his head forward. He was at a loss. He had no idea what condition Iza was going to be when she woke up. He didn’t know what he was going to do with her to get her back to normal before they returned to Starscape. There was only so much Runi cleansing he could do to clear out the mess Lord Tyranus had made before he would drain himself dry. He needed _help_. Unfortunately, _help_ came in the form of a man who knew Iza better than he did. And that man would have nothing to do with her—because Iza wanted nothing to do with _him_. There had to be a way to fix this. Keeping her away from Serenno would be a good start. The place was so full of dark energy that it was hard to breathe here sometimes. He was not due to return here until his _assignment_ was complete, anyhow. _Force_ —that was another thing he had to deal with that he did not want to think about either. Of course Tyranus would ask such a vile thing of him to prove his loyalty. He supposed he’d truly screwed up this time by lying about punishing Iza properly. Everything that had happened today was most definitely _his_ fucking fault.

Shaking his head at himself as he carried Iza through the halls and out of the large doors leading out into the courtyard, he glanced down at her again and frowned. She was still pouring sweat and making those soft, angry sounds. She reminded him so much of Anakin when he was first learning to control the much darker side of himself. Of course, Anakin had also had his mind simultaneously manipulated towards the ideologies of the Sith. His mind had become very fragile and it’d been extremely difficult to control him at times. It had confused him, then. At least now Obi-Wan knew how to flush these things out of Iza’s head before they could take root and corrupt her in the wrong direction. He really should have known better.

~*~**~*~

“Obi-Wan?” Her voice was soft, cracked. Iza didn’t know where she was or why it was so cold. Her body hurt. She felt nauseous. Sitting up was a chore and her head spun and ached terribly when she was finally able to do it. For a moment, she worried she’d been locked away again. There were no cuffs around her wrists, but they felt bruised. There was no light in here, but a small amount bled in from beneath the crack under the door. Drawing in a slow breath, she leaned back against the wall and tried again, louder. “ _Obi-Wan?_ ”

The door slid open and the overhead light blinded her, making her throw her hands up to block it out. The familiar warmth of the older man’s signature grew closer before he sat beside her on the bed and pulled her close. He smelled like sweat and linen soap and a little like cigarette smoke. _Odd_. The last time she’d seen him sneak a cigarette had been months ago. The firm grasp of fingers took hold of her bruised chin and tilted her head up. Her eyes rolled lightly in her skull before she opened them and found his pretty blues searching hers in concern. There was a dark bruise flaring up the side of one of his cheeks. His bottom lip was busted and swollen. A rush of panic flooded her chest and she let out a helpless sound.

“Quiet, darling,” he said softly, continuing his search for _something_ beyond her eyes. He was looking _into_ her, she realized. She could feel it if she tried hard enough. She was just so tired she didn’t have the strength to bother. Her insides still felt the sting of the fire she’d been filled with. It would continue to tingle this way for the next day or so. It always did.

“Asajj?”

“She’s all right,” he didn’t know what she remembered and what she didn’t. He would not spark any memories she didn’t need. “She did not want to come with us.”

Iza’s face twisted in dismay, but she did not whine the way he expected. She looked lost. He wondered how much she even remembered of their visit.

“Darling,” letting go of her face, he stroked his fingers under her chin and gave a gentle smile. “Would you like to bond with me?”

“I do not want to have sex.” She looked ill at the idea. _That_ was a first.

“No, my love,” brushing the hair back from her face, Obi-Wan pressed a kiss to the middle of her forehead. “We do not have to. We can simply bond and meditate. Just for comfort, darling. I will not ask for anything more.”

Iza contemplated this quietly for a few moments before she nodded slowly. Casting another affectionate smile down at her, Obi-Wan shifted to sit against the wall at a slight angle before beckoning her to him. When she gave a confused sort of look, he chuckled and tugged lightly at her trousers.

“Like the cleansing position, darling,” he watched patiently while she nodded again and crawled onto his lap, sliding her legs over his to rest them on either side of his hips. He couldn’t help noticing how uncomfortable she looked. She was tense and didn’t seem to want to look him in the eye, either. Pursing his lips in a soft frown, Obi-Wan reached up and ran a crooked finger against the curve of her chin, drawing her attention. “Darling, what’s the matter?”

“I do not want to sit this way,” she answered shakily, her eyes darting away.

“Would you feel more comfortable in the _kot_ position?”

She nodded.

“All right, my love,” nudging her, he waited while she changed position and felt the tension ease from her back when she settled against his chest. Something was _not_ right here. As soon as he got her calm enough, he would find out what it was. When she’d gotten comfortable, he rested his chin against her shoulder and positioned her hands on her knees with her palms facing upward, settling his on top of them to lace their fingers together. “Do you trust me, my love?”

“Yes,” she nodded slowly, leaning back into him further.

“May I have you?”

“You may.”

Tilting his head, Obi-Wan settled his temple against hers and closed his eyes, reaching out into the Force to find her. When the pale blue of his Force energy touched hers, it was like being burned and shocked with ice at the same time. He had to fight not to grunt audibly, lest he startle her. As it was, her energy pulsed such a dark shade of blue it was nearly black. He had not seen her this bad before. What the _hell_ had Tyranus done? He could feel her breathing deeply along with him, felt the tiny twitching of her head against his when he curled the bright light of his energy into hers. Her fingers tightened against his and she whined in pain, pushing back against his chest. Shushing her quietly, he soothed her with a slow skim of his cheek along hers and reached deeper along their bond. He needed to find their sacred space. If he could bring her there, it would be much easier to clean these dark things out of her. Somewhere, he heard her sobbing. The sound was filled with so much fear and agony that it tore his chest apart. He could not tell whether it was a memory or if she was crying in his arms. She was trembling too hard.

All of the torches had been blown out, he realized. He’d already been wandering the halls of their little temple without having noticed. It was as though a great wind had come through and snuffed each one out without mercy. Concentrating, he began to relight them. Iza twisted in his hold, shouted something when he got close to a peculiar looking door. It had been knocked from its hinges rather violently. There were sounds of distress and gut wrenching cries coming from inside. His curiosity led him inside to a scene he should never have laid eyes upon.

A dark, empty room. Four men. Her robes scattered upon the dirt-laden floor. _Screaming._ She was screaming for her master. The faces swapped as if on automatic rotation to torture her. _Anakin. Catcher. Mace. **Obi-Wan.**_

He felt the hard thud of her skull against his shoulder and heard her furious screaming in his ear. He could not look away.

“ _GET OUT. **OBI-WAN**!_”

She was fighting against the bond, pulling on his hold and twisting harder as he looked on at the viciousness she’d hidden away in her mind.

“ _GET OUT!_ ”

He retreated. Sick and cold, he pulled back from the room and sealed it tight. Weary eyes looked down the hallway at the other doors that had been broken down and he wondered what other horrors lay behind them. How many of her nightmares had Tyranus yanked to the surface? This— _this_ was the worst of them. He was sure. He could not leave this to be uprooted again.

“ _Obi-Wan!_ ”

“Trust in me, my darling,” pressing his lips to her cheek, he tasted tears and breathed heavily as he fought to keep his own at bay. “Please trust in me.”

“It hurts,” she swallowed hard and shifted on the bed, squeezing his hands hard enough to make his fingers go numb. “Make it stop.”

“I will,” he nodded, focusing. “But you must help me. You must help push this out, darling. You _must_ let go.”

“I don’t know how,” she sounded so helpless and the way she sagged against him in defeat made him want to wrap his arms around her. He couldn’t. Not yet.

“Give it to the Force, darling. Take this pain and give it to the Force.” He tried to steady his breathing so she would follow suit, swallowing the horrible need he had to vomit. “Give it to the Force the way you used to give it to your Catcher.”

Iza seemed to understand. She gave a strained sort of grunt and pressed her shoulders back on him, breathing harshly and letting out a soft cry. Obi-Wan felt an odd pinch along their bond. She’d released the agony. The memory would remain, but he would be able to suppress it for her. Tyranus would have a hell of a time finding it now. The way she sobbed and wailed like she’d lost a part of her soul absolutely _wrecked_ him. He knew how distressing it was to remove _parts_ of oneself, no matter how horrible. Like lopping off a limb—even something as simple as a finger—it was a sense of loss that could not be returned without dire consequences. But at least _limbs_ could be artificially replaced. Iza would not be able to bring this back when he was done. He would not want her to. There were plenty of other dark things for her to draw upon for her powers. She did not need this floating freely within her head.

“Breathe, my sweet,” he whispered, brushing his mouth against her tear-stained cheek again. “The hard part is over. Let me take care of the rest.”

“Obi-Wan,” his name was a drawn out whine that made his heart clench in his chest. “I can’t… I’m so tired.”

“Sleep, darling,” he gathered her against him to prop her higher on his chest, keeping their hands laced together tight. “I have you. You will not be in pain when you wake. I promise.”

“Home?” She settled her head against his with a quiet whimper, sounding hopeful.

“Yes, my love,” he turned and pushed as proper of a kiss as he could to her lips. “We are going home.”

~*~*~*~

Anakin and Catcher were not expecting the two to return for several days. So when the door to the apartment slid open and the figures of Iza and Obi-Wan slowly sauntered in, they were understandably a bit confused. At first, Anakin could only focus on Obi-Wan and his bruised face. The last time his lover had returned home with a mark like that, Tyranus had lost his temper over something _trivial_. Obi-Wan had rejected some idea of his and he’d been struck down like a petulant child. He wondered what the older man had done to piss the man off this time.

“ _Fuck, **Little Bit** ,_”

Catcher’s exclamation had him turning his attention to Iza and Anakin felt his stomach roll. The brunette wore a bruise of her own beneath her chin, but it was the haunted look on her pale face that bothered him the most. Her eyes were tired and vacant, looking sunken with dark circles beneath them like she hadn’t slept in over a month. She barely looked up at either of them but even from here, he could see the bright gold they’d become. _Fuck_ was right.

“Do not touch her,” Obi-Wan warned in a weary tone, dropping their bags behind the sofa. “She needs to rest.”

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin didn’t mean to sound as panicked as he did, but he’d never seen the little woman like that. She’d come back looking a bit worse for wear before, but this was on par with how _he’d_ looked at times when he’d spent too much time in Palpatine’s company.

“M’fine,” Iza mumbled, lurching towards the kitchen. Catcher got up from his seat to tail after her, keeping his distance so Obi-Wan wouldn’t fuss at him. He was terrified she would just fall over and didn’t want her cracking her skull on anything if she did. When she paused and looked back at him, he froze and just stared at her, watching the way she tilted her head at him. After a moment or so, she stepped forward and nestled her cheek in the center of his chest, winding her arms around him tight. “Have we got any caf, Catch?”

“Eh?” It took him a moment before he could speak properly. “Yeah—of course, Little Bit. Would you like some?”

“Please?”

“I’ll put the pot on,” he hesitated before brushing a hand down the side of her face, bowing to kiss the top of her head. “Why don’t you go sit, sweetheart? I’ll bring it to you.”

Nodding, Iza pulled away to wander back into the living room. She paused when she saw the way Anakin was still staring at her. Giving him the same curious look she’d given Catcher, she came over to him and smoothed her hands along his hips, leaning into him and tipping her head up.

“ _Cyar’ika_ ,” she poked her bottom lip out lightly and Anakin palmed her cheek gingerly, blue eyes continuing to study her hard.

“Are you all right?” He asked quietly, swallowing hard.

“No,” she smiled slowly and turned to kiss the inside of his wrist. “But I will be.”

“Can I do anything?”

Iza pushed her lips up, indicating she wanted a kiss. Anakin let out a nervous sort of laugh, bowing his head to plant a delicate kiss to her mouth. Resting his forehead to hers for a long time, he stroked his thumb against her cheek and closed his eyes.

“Sweetness,”

“Not now, _cyar’ika_ ,” she murmured back, giving him another kiss. “Please, not now.”

“Okay,” he nodded, picking his head up when he heard Catcher approaching. Giving the brunette a little nudge and a soft smile, he gestured to the clone who held a steaming mug of caf. “Go relax. I would like to speak to Obi-Wan.”

“I love you,” she pouted up at him and gave a tug to the hem of his tunic, earning a wider smile and a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you so much, sweetness,” he murmured against her skin. Pulling back, he watched her turn to follow Catcher to his room. There were no jealous feelings in his chest. He knew the clone could offer a sense of comfort that she needed at the moment. She would seek him out later when she was ready. He did not mind waiting. Turning, Anakin found that Obi-Wan had vanished from the room. Frowning, he stalked into the bedroom that they shared and followed the faint smell of cigarette smoke out onto the balcony. The older man stood leaning against the railing, eyes pointed out at the dark ocean with one of his cigarettes smoldering between his fingers. He really needed to hide them better.

“We have an assignment,” Obi-Wan said quietly, taking a long drag before he handed the cigarette over to Anakin. “We will get it done and then this _ends_.”

“What happened?” Anakin was not interested in smoking. He wanted to know what had happened to Obi-Wan’s face. When the other man would not look at him, he reached out and slid long fingers beneath his jaw to turn his head towards him. Neither of them said anything, and then Anakin leaned in and pressed a deep, careful kiss to his lips. A harsh breath left Obi-Wan and gusted into the younger man’s mouth, but he refused to let his emotions come to the surface. He would not burden Anakin with these things. He would hold onto them and quietly take care of them on his own the way he always did. When they broke away and settled their foreheads together, Anakin scrunched his nose lightly and let out a tiny laugh. “You taste terrible when you smoke.”

“You’ve been drinking,” Obi-Wan’s accusing tone was light, the smile on his lips soft and affectionate.

“It was _one_ drink. Rex was celebrating a bolo-ball team win.”

“Mm,” Obi-Wan had never been much for _sports_. “I am all right, my dear. You know I have been through worse things.”

“You never come home looking this way, Obi-Wan,” Anakin’s features went soft. “And she… her eyes…”

“He has broken her far quicker than I expected,” the older man wouldn’t look at him. “He has found her weaknesses and he exploits them without mercy. I would expect nothing less of Tyranus.” Hesitating, Obi-Wan took the cigarette back and re-lit it. “He has been using her traumas as punishment.”

“Her…” an odd look flickered across Anakin’s face before a murderous expression followed, twisting his handsome features into something dark and feral. “ _Obi-Wan_ ,”

“I have done what I can to seal the worst of them away,” huffing out the drag he’d just taken, Obi-Wan ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “She is in such a state because she had to help me. These are things she had to let go of on her own. I could not force them out. You know that, Anakin.”

“Tell me why we can’t kill him _now_ ,” leaning over the rail to get the other man to look at him, Anakin scowled hard enough to make his face hurt. “Why do you need to complete this _assignment?_ ”

“ _My_ training will be complete after this, Anakin,” blue eyes fixed on the younger man’s face. “I will have enough knowledge to continue your teachings and Iza’s teachings without stooping to the levels of that monster. But I cannot reach it without this.”

“And what is it you have to do?”

“I can’t discuss that with you.”

“ _Since when?_ ”

“Anakin, _my love_ ,” turning, Obi-Wan pitched the cigarette over the railing into the sand below and cupped the younger man’s face in both hands, leveling their gazes. “You know there are no secrets between us. I do my very best to tell you _everything_. But this is _one_ thing I must keep to myself right now. Please understand that it is not something I am doing to purposely upset you. I have not even discussed it with Iza, and she must tag along for it.”

Anakin studied the face of the other man for a long time, a soft frown pulling at his lips. He wanted to trust Obi-Wan and allow him the secrecy he needed for this _assignment_. But there was just something in his gut that didn’t like the idea of not knowing what was going on. He was a little relieved, however, that they would not have to have the discussion of pulling Iza from these lessons. He and Catcher had spent a long time talking about how strange the little woman had been behaving as of late and how they were both sure that it was Tyranus’ doing. At least now Obi-Wan seemed to be on the same wavelength. Letting out a sigh, he turned away and shrugged.

“All right,”

Pulling him down for another gentle kiss, Obi-Wan lingered for a long time, lightly nuzzling his nose against Anakin’s cheek as he sight softly.

“I do not want to keep this from you, my dear. Please understand that.” He whispered, brushing a finger against Anakin’s jaw. “It pains me to hide things from you. But this is for the best.”

“I understand.” Anakin looked back at him with a faint smile, eyes trailing over the bruises once more. “Have you done _anything_ about this?”

“Iza made attempts. She is so out of balance that I fear she was only able to shift the bones back into place.”

“Shift… _Obi-Wan_ ,”

“I am _fine_ , Anakin,” pulling away with a laugh, the older man headed back into the room and through to the living room. “It is all cosmetic at this point. Nothing a little more bacta won’t—”

“I _said_ I do not want to!” The door to Catcher’s room slid open and Iza stomped out, the front of her robes soaked in caf. Behind her, the clone followed out, looking confused and equally stained with caf.

“Little Bit, I said we didn’t _have_ to,” he turned a hand up and rubbed at his face, looking to the other two in the room. “I _swear_ to the Maker I didn’t—I kissed her. That’s all I did.”

“I _told_ you not to touch her,” Obi-Wan snapped, moving to follow after Iza. “ _Darling_ ,”

“ ** _Fuck off_** _!_ ” Whirling, she fixed him with terrified eyes and lifted a hand. Obi-Wan stopped dead. He wasn’t sure what she planned to do, but he wasn’t going to test her. She was twitching again. She’d stopped for a while after he’d bonded her. Perhaps he had not suppressed that memory deeply enough. “I want to be left _alone_.”

“Of course, darling,” he said softly, gesturing to the bedroom. “Anything you want.”

Iza stared at him, twitching. With a heavy rush of breath, she turned and headed into the bedroom. The door slid shut behind her and they heard the locking mechanism engage. Nobody spoke. They were all too busy trying to make sense of what had just happened and why the room felt like someone had left the cooler on maximum.

“He used our faces,” Obi-Wan said dryly after a while, staring at a spot on the floor. “He traded out the men who attacked her with _us_.”

“What the _fuck_ are you talking about?” Catcher stared at him hard, feeling sick.

“I… saw the things he has been showing her to break her down. I believe the reason she has been…” He didn’t know how to word this. It all sounded so fucking insensitive. “When she does not _behave_ , he forces her to relive the worst moments of her life. He has manipulated them to scar her mind further. He uses _our_ faces in place of the true attackers.”

“ _Excuse me?_ ”

“None of us can touch her. _None of us_.” Looking over at the door with a hard sigh, Obi-Wan shook his head. “It is going to take a lot of work for me to fix this. I’m not even sure I can.”

“You know who can,” Anakin’s tone was dark and so was the look in his eye when Obi-Wan turned to look at him. “Don’t give me that look, Obi-Wan. He’s the _only_ one who can pluck something like this out.”

“I will not force that option on her, Anakin,” shaking his head, Obi-Wan looked away. “We must give her time to get settled back into routine. If this does not change, _then_ we will bring it up.”

“Is it even fair to do that?” Catcher asked, watching the two Dark Jedi turn to stare at him. Shrugging, he turned a hand up. “I don’t know about you, but removing memories seems a bit… _wrong_ to me.”

“It is when it’s done without consent, I agree.” Obi-Wan nodded. “But that’s not how this would work. She would have to give her full consent to even _see_ the man capable of doing this for her. You know us by now, Catcher. We do not do anything without her consent.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” blowing out a breath, the clone ran his fingers through his hair and glanced down at his stained tunic. “I’m going to change and then I think I’m going to join the others at the bonfire. I need a drink. If she needs me for whatever reason—”

“I will come and get you,” Anakin promised with a nod. The two men exchanged a look and another nod before the clone left the room. Looking to Obi-Wan, and then to the bedroom door, Anakin tightened his arms across his chest and closed his eyes. “I hope this assignment is worth the reward, Obi-Wan. Because if she gets worse, I will kill Tyranus _myself_.”

“I know you will, my dear.” Obi-Wan sighed heavily. “I know you will.”


	3. It Seems I've Been Buried Alive

Anakin couldn’t find his damn cigarettes. He knew Obi-Wan had last left the packet on the dresser when he’d stolen one earlier in the evening, but he _swore_ he’d put them in the drawer of the sideboard in the living room so he wouldn’t have to bother Iza in the middle of the night. They weren’t there. They weren’t in his other hiding spot in the cabinet above the refrigerator either. As much as he didn’t _want_ to try and sneak into the bedroom, he knew the only other place they could be was his top drawer. He supposed he could always venture down to the beach and see if any of the clones who were still awake had any, but he didn’t feel like making the trek. Besides, he’d likely be tempted to drink if he went down there, especially with everything going on right now. Swearing quietly to himself, he heaved a sigh and ran his fingers through his hair as he stared at the locked bedroom door. Surely she would understand?

Waving a hand to unlock the door with the Force, he glanced back over his shoulder to make sure Obi-Wan was still asleep on the sofa. The last thing he needed was for the older man to wake up and scold him for going into the bedroom. Venturing in as quietly as he could, he frowned when he saw the bed empty. Perhaps the only thing that was more unsettling was the soft smell of cigarette smoke wafting in from the balcony. Slowly, he wandered through the room with his eyes glued to the transparisteel slider that had been left cracked open. Iza sat curled in one of the chairs dressed in a tunic he wasn’t sure belonged to himself or Obi-Wan, staring out at the ocean and taking careful drags from a half-smoked cigarette. The pack sat beside her on the little glass-top table and there was already a small collection of filters in the ashtray he’d dumped before they’d gotten home. The way she smoked so casually made him wonder how long she’d been doing it.

“Are you just going to stand there?” Her tired voice scared the shit out of him. Blowing out a breath, he opened the slider further to step out, closing it behind him. She didn’t say anything more and she didn’t look at him as she nudged the packet over to him across the table, flicking the ash from the end of her cigarette carelessly. Anakin murmured a quiet _thanks_ and picked the packet and lighter up, taking one and getting it lit while never letting his eyes leave her. There was a sense of coolness around her that felt _off_ , but he didn’t want to bother her if she didn’t want to be bothered. Moving to stand on the other end of the balcony, the younger man leaned into the railing and looked out at the water, unable to keep his thoughts from straying to her for very long. When he opened his mouth to say something, she cut him off. “Don’t tell Obi-Wan. He’ll get mad.”

“I won’t,” looking over, he shook his head and smiled faintly. “How long?”

“Month. Maybe two?” She shrugged and looked over at him finally. Her eyes were no longer bright gold, but the green was so light that they bordered on yellow. “I don’t usually smoke so much. But I can’t sleep.”

“Sweetness,” Anakin tried not to look as worried as he felt as he fully turned to face her. “Is there something I can do to help?”

The smile that pulled the corners of her lips up was tight and weary. Her eyes lost focus for a moment and her entire body twitched, causing her to grunt irritably. Swallowing, she shook her head.

“You don’t want the answer to that, _cyar’ika_.”

“Iza?”

“I am so tired, Anakin,” leaning back in the chair, the brunette pressed her lips together tightly to try and stop her jaw from wobbling. “I’m tired of the pain. I’m tired of seeing things I do not want to see. I’m tired of being so _cold_. I can’t stand the whispers anymore. I want it… I just want it to _stop_ , _cyar’ika_.”

He didn’t know if he wanted to be sick or if he was going to cry. He had a pretty good idea of what she was trying to tell him and it was breaking his heart to hear it. He hated that he knew how she felt. He _hated_ that he could remember feeling these same things and not knowing why. It somehow seemed worse that she _knew_ the cause but was still so helpless against it. Drawing in a deep breath, he let it out shakily and licked his lips.

“Let me go get Obi-Wan,”

“No,” she took the last drag of her cigarette and put it out in the ashtray, turning her gaze back to the water. “I don’t want him to know.”

“ _Iza_ ,” he hesitated to get closer to her. He’d been instructed not to touch her, not to get too close. Surely this voided that command? Obi-Wan would be even more cross with him if he _didn’t_ comfort her and something happened, wouldn’t he? “Sweetness,”

“I don’t want his fussing,” Iza blinked slowly, twitching. “I’m so sick of his fussing.”

“He has every right to fuss, sweetness,” he couldn’t stay on his side of the balcony anymore. Crossing the space between them, Anakin knelt beside the chair and stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray before he put a hand on Iza’s knee. “This is very _serious_ , Iza,”

“Is it?” Dull, unfocused eyes shifted to look at him for a moment. She lifted a hand and ran it through his hair, her head tilting slightly before her fingers tightened painfully around the strands. Cringing against the sudden sharp sting, Anakin grit his teeth and tried not to shout.

“ _Iza—_ ”

“Will you run crying to him, Anakin?” She pulled until he was forced to tilt his head back. “Will you tell him how _worried_ you are for me? When this is _his_ fault?”

“What are you talking about?” He wanted to pry her fingers off but didn’t dare to. There was something about the look in her eye that warned him to keep his eyes on her and not move a damn muscle.

“You know nothing of how he abuses me when we’re with Tyranus.” Letting go of him, Iza turned away again and blindly reached for the cigarettes. “He hides himself away with soft smiles and gentle caresses but he is just as much of a monster as that man. He speaks to me like I’m _garbage_ , Anakin. I cannot count how many times he has struck me down— _strangled_ me to prove his loyalty to _his master_.”

“You’re…” he didn’t know if he could question it. He couldn’t sense a lie along their bond, but he’d been fooled before. Not by her; by someone far more powerful. “Obi-Wan wouldn’t…”

“He wouldn’t do them to _you_ because Tyranus sees you as _filth_ unfit to wield these powers.” Snarling around the filter of her freshly lit cigarette, Iza exhaled harshly through her nose and grunted when she twitched again. “You do not have all of your _parts_ , my love. He would not have taken you if you begged on bloody knees.”

Anakin could not keep from running his fingers along his cybernetic arm. He flinched when Iza’s fingers slipped into his hair again and braced himself for a tug that did not come. She only stroked at the strands and rubbed her fingertips against his scalp in a soothing manner. When he looked up at her, she had one gold eye pointed at him and her lips pursed in a soft pout. Turning in the chair, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I do not think these things, my sweet _cyar’ika_ ,” she murmured in a soft tone, fingers sliding beneath his chin to tilt his head up again. Dusting more kisses over his cheeks, she nuzzled her nose across his and made a sound much like a purr. “I think you are perfect. I love you dearly, Anakin.”

“I love _you_ , sweetness,” his head was spinning from the sharp change in her tone and attitude, but Anakin would not fight her when she pressed a hard kiss to his mouth. The taste of cigarettes on her tongue was so foreign, but strangely intoxicating. She leaned over further in the chair, kissed him deeper until she was luring his tongue into her mouth to suck at it. When she released him, her teeth dragged lightly over his bottom lip and she let out one of those heavy sighs of hers that usually signaled that they were about to take this into the bedroom. He wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. Opening his eyes, Anakin was startled to find her gazing at him with her bottom lip caught between her teeth and that needy look in her eye. Tilting his head at her curiously, he watched her put her cigarette out and put his hands out to help her as she crawled out of the chair onto his lap, groaning when she fit herself tight against his pelvis. “ _Iza,_ ”

“You’re so _hard_ , _cyar’ika_ ,” her soft fingers slid along the sides of his neck as she rolled her hips into him and brushed her mouth against his chin. Anakin was overwhelmed. He knew damn well he wasn’t supposed to touch her. Obi-Wan had been so fucking adamant about it, too. But she was so _warm_ and _soft_ and she kept rubbing on his cock so _perfectly_ that he wasn’t sure what he should do.

“Sweetness,” he wound an arm around her, pressing his face against her shoulder to muffle a curse when she put more of her weight on him and slowly ground her hips down. “ _Iza, **fuck**_ ,”

“Can we?” Pulling back to look at him, Iza cupped his face in her hands and stroked her thumbs against his chin. Anakin felt so dazed as he looked up at her, his breathing already ragged. It was hard to focus. She was so fucking _warm_. Her eyes were so pretty, weren’t they? That shimmery gold really suited her with her dark hair. He started to smile slowly as he nodded, leaning in to steal a soft kiss that turned into something rough and full of tiny bites to each other’s mouths. He felt her shifting on him, lifting her weight up. He growled at the loss and went to yank his sleeping trousers down enough to free the erection straining the front of them. Gathering the hem of the tunic up, Iza pulled it off over her head and dropped it onto the chair, leaning into his chest with a playful smile and staying high enough above his lap to keep him from taking her.

“ _Iza_ ,” Anakin took hold of her hips but did nothing more than paw at them. He growled deeply when she snickered at him and bent to nip his ear, shivering when she traced the outer edge with the tip of her tongue.

“ _Say please, cyar’ika_ ,” she lowered herself just enough to rub against the head of his cock, dipping her head to find a spot on his neck to kiss and gently bite. “Say _please_ and you can have me,”

“Please,” he kissed her shoulder and ran his hands along her sides, smoothing them back down over her hips to knead them lightly. “ _Please, sweetness?_ ”

Humming softly, Iza reached between them to position him just right and slowly sank down onto him, letting out a heavy moan as she did. Anakin couldn’t keep from dropping his head back against the transparisteel slider, fingers digging deep into her hips as he lifted up from the ground with a low growl. When she’d settled onto him completely, Iza leaned forward and pressed her forehead to his, working her hips in slow circles as she leveled their gazes and nipped his bottom lip.

“ _Mine_ ,”

Anakin nodded enthusiastically, a grin spreading across his lips.

“ _Yours, sweetness,_ ”

Seemingly satisfied with this, Iza sealed her mouth over his in another rough kiss and braced a hand on the slider behind his head for leverage as she picked up the pace. Beneath her, Anakin was already sweating like they’d been at this for hours. He could feel it trickling down the back of his neck and over his chest even though the night air was relatively cool for once. Iza was practically dripping sweat as well. The harder she worked him, the damper her hair and skin became. It got to the point where Anakin felt his fingers slipping from where they gripped her hips, but he couldn’t find enough sense to question it. All he could focus on was how wet and tight she was and how sweet her mouth tasted even tainted with cigarette smoke.

“ _Cyar’ika_ ,”

Looking up through the sweat-drenched hair that had fallen across his forehead, Anakin raised an eyebrow at her and caught sight of that soft, needy pout of hers. He grinned. He knew that look. The leather-clad fingers of his cybernetic hand latched on to the slender column of her throat and squeezed. When she reached up and tapped his knuckles, he let out a breathless chuckle and brought his other hand up to grasp the hair at the back of her head and pull.

“ _Harder_ ,” those gold-hued eyes of hers stared at him pleadingly. How could he say no? Shifting the position of his fingers on her neck, he tightened his hold and tugged harder at the hair he held until she was squealing in absolute bliss. **_Fuck_** , she was so tight. He couldn’t keep from fucking himself into her as hard as he could in the seated position. Iza seemed _delighted_ by the savagery of it all, her nails dragging over his chest as she took shallow, ragged breaths through the tight hold he had on her. Together, they both let out harsh sounds of release and Anakin let go of her throat before he accidentally crushed it, though he still held tight to her hair. The brunette tensed and trembled hard in his lap, back arched as she called out to him so loud that someone across the compound whooped in celebration for them. Folding forward, she sagged against his chest, wheezing lightly.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Anakin felt like he’d gone blind. It was hard to see through the spots in front of his eyes and the heat that was still smothering him made it damn difficult to breathe. Realizing he still had a good grip on Iza’s hair, he released it and wound his arm around her, turning to kiss the side of her head. “Are you okay?”

“ _Mm_ ,” she grunted, sounding raspy even without words. He should’ve been more careful.

Leaning back against the slider again, he started to shut his eyes when he heard hard, angry footsteps approaching and almost groaned. He knew he was about to get yelled at.

“Just what the _hell_ —”

“ _Fuck off_ ,” Iza snapped in that raspy voice, barely sparing Obi-Wan a look. The older man blinked, bewildered. Frowning down at the two, he propped his hands on his hips and shifted his gaze to Anakin.

“Care to explain?”

“I came out for a cigarette,” Anakin shrugged lazily, wincing quietly when Iza moved on his lap.

“I told you to leave her alone.”

“Obi-Wan, I did not—”

“Would you like to be next, Master Kenobi?” Leaning back from Anakin’s chest, Iza looked up at Obi-Wan with a dazed sort of look in her eyes as she panted. Licking her bottom lip to wet it, she let the corner of her mouth curve in a faint smirk as sweat rolled down the sides of her face and her golden eyes seemed to glow in the light of the moon overhead. “I’ll clean up and be a good girl for you. Would you like that, my darling?”

Obi-Wan looked even more startled than before, though he hesitated to get close enough to really study her face. Reaching into the Force around her produced nothing but the usual warmth she exuded when she was in one of her _moods_. But she’d been so repulsed by the idea of sex earlier in the evening that this confused him greatly. She hadn’t even wanted to sit in a Runi position that required their pelvises to touch because it’d made her so uncomfortable. And here she was, offering herself to him when she’d freshly finished with Anakin. The boy looked a damn mess, too. His eyes were glazed over and he was sweating just as heavily as the brunette. Something was amiss and he wasn’t sure what it was—but it was not _good_.

“ _Master_ ,” she reached out and tugged at his sleeping trousers, pouting at him when he flicked his gaze from Anakin back to her. “Will you make me beg?”

“I am not in the mood, darling,” he said gently, shaking his head. “Perhaps later,”

“I don’t _want_ to wait until later,” she poked her lip out further, whining. “Why not now?”

“I said _no_ , darling.”

Iza huffed and looked away from him, settling her chin on Anakin’s shoulder. The younger man turned and kissed her forehead, smoothing a hand along her bare back. His eyes still looked ridiculously glassy, almost as though he’d been drugged.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan watched his lover lift his head slowly to look at him. “May I speak with you?”

“ _No_ ,” Iza grunted, sliding her arms around Anakin’s neck. “He stays.”

“ _Iza_ ,” Obi-Wan could not understand what the hell was happening. He knew how Iza could sometimes be when she did not get her way, but this was beyond ridiculous.

“ _Cyar’ika_ ,” she nuzzled at his cheek and pouted at him, drawing his attention and pulling a rather _stupid_ smile onto his face when he looked at her.

“What is it, sweetness?”

“Bed?”

“Give me a moment, okay?” He laughed quietly and dusted little kisses across her cheeks. “I’m still getting my bearings back.”

“ _Anakin_ ,” when the younger man’s eyes wouldn’t stray from Iza’s, Obi-Wan tried again, louder, “ ** _Anakin_** _._ ”

“If you do not want to play,” Iza twisted around to look at him, sitting up some to block Obi-Wan from Anakin’s line of sight. “Then there is nothing to discuss,”

“Up,” he waved a hand at her, taking a step forward before reaching to take her by the arm. “Get up, now.”

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,” Anakin’s tone was dark as he wound his other arm around Iza in a manner that could’ve either been _protective_ or _possessive_. It was hard to tell. Locking eyes with the older man over the top of Iza’s head, he frowned hard and shook his head. “Leave her alone,”

“ _What **is** this, Anakin?!_” Obi-Wan waved his hand over the two of them, staring. “Surely the two of you remember that this relationship includes _me?_ My concerns do _matter_.”

“Think about that the next time you’re strangling her for the sake of pleasing _your_ master,” Anakin snapped, shooting Obi-Wan a filthy look. For a moment, the other man just stood there with a stunned expression on his face. His blue eyes shifted back and forth as he tried to make sense of _everything_ that was happening in this moment and when he finally settled on something that seemed _fitting_ , he went back to frowning.

“She is manipulating you, Anakin,” he murmured softly.

“ _I am **not** ,_” Iza’s voice cracked as she scowled.

“My actions on Serenno are abhorrent. I’ll admit to that.” Obi-Wan pressed his lips together tightly and tried to look beyond the gold eyes of the young woman to level his gaze with Anakin’s. “But I do not bring this home with me. You know me far better than that, Anakin.”

Anakin didn’t say anything. He kept his eyes pointed towards his knees and ran his hand in idle passes along Iza’s back. It was difficult to tell whether the motions were meant to soothe her or to soothe him. He leaned into the light brush of Iza’s fingers down the side of his face and shut his eyes a little when she kissed at his ear. Tilting his head against hers, he was vaguely aware of the quiet way she was whispering to him.

“He will not even take full responsibility, _cyar’ika_ ,” she nosed at the spot behind his ear. He could feel her pouting against his neck. “I love him so, but I have come to _fear_ him as well.”

He tightened his arms around her, buried his face against the crook of her neck. A low growl rose in his throat before he braced his back against the slider to get to his feet. It took effort and he had to pause to pull his sleeping trousers back into place, but he would not let the woman in his arms go for anything.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan tried not to sound so alarmed at the way the boy moved as though driven by some unspoken command. “Anakin, my dear—”

“Don’t speak to me,” bending to snatch Iza’s discarded tunic, Anakin draped it over her shoulders and moved to carry her inside. Obi-Wan caught him by the arm on the way in, making him gnash his teeth together and glare down at him. His appearance startled the older man even more. His eyes seemed shadowed and the blue in them was no longer as _blue_ as it should’ve been. He didn’t know what had shifted or how, but he had the distinct feeling Iza was at fault here.

“Please,” the older man was running low on options that didn’t involve outright dropping these two where they stood. He’d promised to stop doing that when they got too out of hand. “Five minutes,”

“ _No_.”

The combined voices of his two lovers put a sick feeling in his chest. When he looked, Iza had a single eye fixed in his direction and an even darker expression on her face than Anakin’s. She was most definitely the cause of this sudden shift. He had made a grave mistake bringing her back here while she was so stuck in her turmoil. Knowing how deeply connected she was with Anakin, this was a very _dangerous_ situation. He had to think of some way to soothe her and get back on her sweeter side before it became worse. He had _one_ option at the ready, though he was extremely reluctant to use it while Anakin was in such a possessive state.

“My darling,” his tone easily switched to a playful purr and he hated that he needed to fake it for the sake of diffusing the situation. “I thought you were going to be a good girl for me?”

Something odd flickered in Iza’s expression. Confusion, perhaps. The darkness shadowing her eyes seemed to wane slightly, though she still looked at him with an air of suspicion.

“You did not want to play, Master Kenobi,” she straightened in Anakin’s arms, brushing her cheek along his when he started growling again. “ _Easy, my cyar’ika_. He is still our beloved Obi-Wan,”

Anakin’s features did not soften, but the hard look in his eye seemed to dim a fraction. _Better_. This was working.

“Am I not allowed to change my mind, darling?” Obi-Wan smiled gently and tentatively reached out to touch a fingertip to her chin. “Perhaps as an apology?”

“You owe a lot of apologies, Master Kenobi,” Iza pouted at him, resting her head against Anakin’s.

“I know, darling,” it was unfortunate how genuine those words were in that moment. Obi-Wan felt like an absolute monster for the way he’d been forced to treat her in front of Tyranus. “But I can only do so much at one time.”

“Will you do it the way I ask you to?” Iza popped a brow and an almost concerned expression crossed Obi-Wan’s face. In the light of the bedroom, he could see quite clearly the reddened area on her throat where Anakin’s hand had been previously. Normally, the two of them were quite careful not to squeeze so tightly to leave bruises. Her knees were skinned as well. He wondered if she’d noticed.

“I…” Now he felt conflicted. He wanted to ease the tension and make more sense of the situation and see if he couldn’t— _somehow_ —fix it. But she’d complained about him causing her pain. He couldn’t understand why she would _ask_ for it during their intimate moments—no matter how wild they happened to be.

“ _Of course not_ ,” That bitter tone returned to her voice and she pulled a frown, looking damn disappointed. Giving a light tap to Anakin’s arm, she waited while he let her down and moved away to pull the stolen tunic on over her head. When she started to leave the bedroom, Anakin followed like an obedient puppy without prompt.

“Darling,” Obi-Wan tailed after them, frustrated. “We have spoken many times of _boundaries_. You must respect mine.”

“I respect that you choose when you wish to abuse me, Master Kenobi.”

“Iza, I do not abuse—”

“What would you call it then, _darling?_ ” She turned to look at him, gold-hued eyes blazing. “What would you call the nasty things you say to me? The way you allow Tyranus to refer to me as a _pet?_ I feel no love from you in that place. I don’t know the man that brings me to Serenno— _but I **hate** him._”

“I have explained what would happen if I did not abide by his orders, my love,” he felt so defeated. Obi-Wan wondered why it was she was behaving so sweetly with Anakin but treated him as though he were nothing but shit on her boot-heel. He could understand that she was upset over his mistreatment of her on Serenno— _he could_. But he did everything in his power to make up for it when he got the chance. She _had_ to know that this was not the kind of man he truly was? “Would you rather be killed because of my failure to obey, darling?”

“ _I would_.” She looked him dead in the eye as she said it, and he believed her. He felt every ounce of the horrible things she’d been fighting to hide from him—from them all—when she stared into his soul and shoved them down the bond. It made him sick. He felt vomit rising in his throat and barely made it across the room to the sink in time. Ice filled his entire being as he retched, despair and exhaustion following close behind. The feeling of wanting to have his life snatched out of existence made him sicker and made his senses foggy. These things did not last. Down the drain they went when he turned the tap on to rinse the sick from the basin, but he was left gasping and clutching the counter to try and remain upright.

“Iza…” the room spun when he opened his eyes and he jumped when he felt slim fingers combing through his hair. Another hand came up with water cupped in the palm to rinse the mess from his beard. “Darling… you did not tell me…”

“You did not ask.” Her voice was soft in his ear.

Turning blurry eyes to look at her, he felt a hard twinge in the center of his chest and tilted his head slightly. The gold of her eyes seemed duller now, tinted with more green than before. She was not sweating quite so hard, either. She still felt very cold.

“We must go to Coruscant,” the words were spoken automatically, like they’d been queued for playback at just the right moment. “I cannot fix this by myself.”

“I will not.” Iza shook her head, fear flickering across her face as one of those odd twitches started near the corner of her eye. “You cannot make me.”

“Sweetness,” Anakin spoke from somewhere in the living room. He had not moved from his spot, though his face showed deep concern when Obi-Wan glanced over at him. “It may be for your own good.”

“I know what you are planning,” she backed away from Obi-Wan, waving a finger. “You will not put me in front of that man. I will _kill_ him, Obi-Wan. I have not forgotten what he did to Anakin.”

“I will not give you a lightsaber,” the older man snorted, straightening now that the room had stopped pitching around.

“ _I will use my bare hands_.”

Right. He’d forgotten her little mantra. He knew she’d stick to it, too.

“Iza, my darling,” taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan turned to her and tried to take her hands. She pulled away and took a step back. “I do not think you understand how far out of balance you are, my girl. You are influencing those around you without realizing it. This is _extremely_ dangerous, especially for Anakin.”

“Why me?” Anakin sounded offended.

“Do you not remember when she Fell, Anakin? How the two of you behaved? You bonded her so deeply that she can manipulate your mind, my dear.”

“ _I would **not**!_” Iza stomped a foot and threw a filthy look at Obi-Wan. “ _I **love** him! I would **never** —_”

“But you _did_ , my darling,” the look on Obi-Wan’s face was soft and sympathetic. Inside, he was terrified of what telling her this was going to bring about. He was having such a difficult time keeping tabs on her emotional state that there was no telling how she was going to react. She felt so damn unstable with how quickly her emotions were fluctuating that he wouldn’t have been surprised if a violent outburst was next on the list. “Perhaps you were not aware of it—but you _did_.”

“You’re a _liar_ ,” she was going to cry. He could already see the tears bubbling in her pretty eyes. “You are so _cruel_ to me. _Where is my Obi-Wan?_ I miss the man who did not accuse me of such _filth_.”

“Iza, I have not changed,” he shook his head and took another step forward. She stepped back awkwardly and backed against the fridge. He hated how she looked at him with so much fear in her eyes. “Your mind is clouded, my love. _I_ have not changed. Tyranus has changed your perception of me with his manipulations.”

Iza looked as though she were trying to process the idea of this. Her expression became vacant and her eyes dulled as they shifted around in her skull. The tears that had formed began trickling down her cheeks as her chest heaved and she curled back against the refrigerator with a quiet whimper and a shake of her head.

“Catcher…” She sucked in a shuddery breath and her face screwed, reddening. “ _Catcher!_ ”

A loud crash from the room down the hall was followed by heavy, rushed footsteps as the clone stumbled into the kitchen. His hair was a mess and he looked startled as hell. His eyes shifted around the brightly lit room before they settled on Iza and he moved to crouch in front of her, cupping her face in his hands.

“What is it, Little Bit? What’s wrong?” His voice was thick and gravelly from sleep, but he was as alert as he was going to get.

“Am I broken?” She whined at him, the twitching around her eyes worsening. “Am I broken again, Catch?”

“ _Sweetheart_ ,” he gathered her against his chest, confused as hell. He couldn’t understand what she was asking him—not at first.

“She has shifted, Catcher,” Obi-Wan said from behind them, making the clone twist his head to look at him. “Do you feel it?”

“I’m surprised _you_ haven’t felt it,” scoffing, Catcher threaded his fingers into Iza’s hair and kissed the side of her head. “Sweetheart, I want you to listen to me carefully. _Don’t get upset._ ”

Iza nodded, burying her face against his shoulder.

“You don’t feel like _you_ , Little Bit,” he hated that he had to say it. He really did. “You know I can’t tell what’s happening in your head, but I know the difference between how you felt a few months ago to how you feel now. There’s no color in your light anymore, Little Bit. I only see black when we bond.”

“But…” she drew back and looked at him, as tearful as ever. “You haven’t said anything?”

“I thought it was part of all this,” Catcher shrugged and frowned, looking horribly guilty. “I didn’t know, Little Bit. I thought they’d be able to tell if something was going on that shouldn’t be.”

“She has hidden it well,” Obi-Wan said quietly, sighing. “I fear Tyranus has truly fractured something within her during this last visit. He is getting closer to turning her into… _what_ , I do not know.”

“He could just be trying to break her, Obi-Wan,” Anakin murmured, coming further into the kitchen. “He knows what she means to you. Maybe he thinks you’ll turn to him for help and play into his hand?”

Obi-Wan made a face like he hadn’t considered that. He knew exactly why _Anakin_ would have considered it. It had been a tactic used against him by Sidious more than once. If Tyranus had learned anything from the other Sith Lord, it likely would have been his drastic—yet _subtle_ —manipulations.

“This is my fault,” the older man murmured, leaning on the counter’s edge. “I brought her to him as a _gift_. I should have known he would use her this way.”

“A _gift?_ ” Anakin stared, letting out a humorless laugh. “ _A **gift** , Obi-Wan?_”

“He would not have taken her any other way, Anakin,” Obi-Wan wouldn’t look at him. “His interest in her waned when Sidious was murdered and the war was due to end.”

“You still haven’t explained why he wanted her.”

“Her military tactics,” he waved a hand and then ran it through his hair. “Her innate ability to throw herself into battle without worrying if she’d make it out. He wanted an acolyte that was both useful on the battlefield and not afraid to be expendable. It was like having a clone with the abilities of a Jedi, in his eyes.”

“And now she’s just something to keep you on an even tighter leash than before.” Anakin scoffed at him, disgusted. Obi-Wan didn’t speak. He’d settled his eyes on Iza, who was watching him from where she stood with her head nestled on Catcher’s shoulder. She looked so damn _sad_ as she gazed at him. It hurt to look at her. He couldn’t bring himself to look away.

“Darling,” heaving a sigh, he shut his eyes. “I should have tried harder to keep you away. But I simply cannot say _no_ to you. Even when it is not in your best interest for me to give in to your pleading, I cannot say _no_.”

“I don’t want to go to Coruscant,” she said flatly, still giving him that sad look.

“I know, my love,” he worked his jaw lightly. “But I don’t know what to do for you. This is beyond my power to fix.”

“He won’t help,” She wound a bit of Catcher’s hair around her fingers, gently knocking her head into his when he kissed her shoulder. “He abandoned me, Obi-Wan. He made his choice.”

“Will you allow me to speak to him and ask?”

Iza hesitated, turning away. That vacant look came back to her face for a moment before she tucked her chin in the crook of Catcher’s neck and shut her eyes.

“Do what you want.”

“My darling,” pushing away from the counter, Obi-Wan came over and crouched beside her, giving Catcher a light nudge to get him to release her. The clone hesitated, backing off even as Iza whimpered and held tight to him.

“Sweetheart,” reaching back to loosen the fingers she had tangled in his hair, he kissed her forehead and gave her a soft look. “Talk to him. I’m not leaving.”

She frowned hard, reluctantly looking over at Obi-Wan. She shut her eyes when he palmed her cheek, stubbornly pinching her mouth.

“I do not want you to suffer anymore, darling,” leaning in, he pressed his lips to her hairline and sighed. “Mace is the only one I know who can possibly help. Please—you must allow me to try and correct my mistakes.”

“I will not go back to the Light,” Iza swallowed hard, flinching.

“You will not have to.”

“He will try to force it upon me,” she shook her head and pulled back from him, trying to suppress one of those hard twitches with a whine. “He has battered his way in before, Obi-Wan. He does not _care_.”

“Can’t you _try_ before you resign to handing her off to Windu?” Anakin asked, pulling Obi-Wan’s attention. “It’s _your_ mess, after all. You should be the one to fix it.”

“ _Anakin_ ,” it was hard for him to tell whether or not the boy was still under Iza’s strong influence or if he was just _that_ upset with him. His head was so jumbled from all of this that he was having a hard time even thinking straight.

“I…” Obi-Wan looked back at Iza and shrugged. “I can try. But not here,”

“I’m not leaving my home.” She pulled back further, features hardening. “I’m not leaving _them_.”

“You would be perfectly safe, my love.”

“I do not trust you.”

 _That_ stung. It felt as though someone had sucked all the air out of the room and Obi-Wan felt a rush of dizziness that nearly had him dropping to the floor. Lowering his gaze from hers, he brought a hand to his mouth and rubbed at his mustache until the skin burned beneath the hairs. His chest hurt. His eyes tingled sharply. There was a tightness in his throat that he couldn’t swallow down. Finally, he blew out a short breath and nodded.

“Very well, darling,” he said quietly, not looking at her. “We shall remain here.”

“Obi-Wan?” Anakin sounded concerned. The older man put his hand up and shook his head to indicate that he was fine. It took him a moment to get to his feet and once he had, he braced a hand against the counter to keep himself upright. The touch of a hand on his back startled him and he turned to find Anakin staring at him, blue eyes soft and anxious.

“I’m all right,” he smiled as much as he could in that moment, vaguely aware that there were tears on his face. _Funny_. He hadn’t felt them there a moment ago. “You’ve left the cigarettes on the balcony, yes?”

“There’s a fresh pack in the top drawer beneath Anakin’s underclothes,” Iza murmured, making him shift his attention to her. He tilted his head lightly in question and she shrugged. “I had to replace the ones I took.”

“Oh _darling_ ,” he didn’t think he could feel any worse. Knowing she’d taken up their disgusting habit was the final nail. Sinking against the counter, he dragged his fingers through his hair and covered his eyes with a palm, heaving out a harsh breath that could have been a sob if he’d let it. This was all _so much_. Obi-Wan Kenobi could take a lot. He’d learned to handle some pretty painful shit over the years. Somehow— _somehow_ having all of this piled on in one night was just too fucking much. Between Anakin behaving the way he had when he’d still been wrapped tight around Sidious’ fingers, Iza and her fluctuating turmoil, and now her declaration of not trusting him—it felt like he was going to have a damn breakdown right here in the kitchen. And the topper— _the fucking topper_ —was knowing that there was still the little matter of his _assignment_ to take care of. That had been weighing so heavily on his mind since they’d left Serenno that he’d hardly been able to focus on little else. No wonder he couldn’t keep tabs on this girl.

He jumped at the feel of palms skimming along his waist and the warm weight of a soft, feminine body that followed. Unable to bring himself to look at her yet, Obi-Wan shut his eyes behind his hand and let out a quiet noise when Iza set her cheek against his chest. Such a funny gesture for a woman who claimed she held no trust for him.

“I did not say I didn’t love you,” she whispered, putting more of her weight on him until the counter felt like it was cutting into his lower back.

“You should know better,” he had to stop to clear his throat. “ _Trust_ is the basic foundation of love, my darling,”

“I only meant—”

“It does not matter how you _meant_ it, Iza,” Obi-Wan’s tone was rough, dark. “You once promised not to be _cruel_ to us. This is… to say such a thing is _terribly cruel_ , my dear.”

“Obi-Wan…” she pulled back a little, looking up at him even though he still hadn’t moved his hand. He shook his head.

“Please get off of me, darling,”

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,” she sounded terrified and felt it as well when she started trembling against him, hands grasping at his clothes. He dropped his hand and gingerly took hold of her shoulders to try and urge her into moving away from him. Iza only held tighter and let out a frantic cry, trying to pull him back to her. “ ** _Obi-Wan_** _!_ ”

“Anakin,” he seemed to refuse to look at her as he gestured. Anakin hesitated, looking between the two of them. Carefully, he started to slip an arm around Iza’s waist, only to have her yell out again and twist away from him.

“ _Please!_ ” Seams ripped as Iza gripped the fabric of Obi-Wan’s shirt while he tried to move away from her. He managed to get two steps from the counter before she tugged at him again, sobbing out much louder than before. Clenching his jaw, he turned to her, eyes glassy and blazing.

“ ** _LET GO_** _!_ ”

The whole room seemed to still at the way he roared at her so viciously. With a whimper, Iza released his shirt and sucked in a hard, shuddery breath. She stood twitching horribly as she stared at him, tears streaking down her cheeks. Her eyes had shifted back to their pretty green color. Slowly, she started to take a step forward.

“Obi—”

“ _Do not_ ,” he waved a finger at her and shook his head, voice tight. “You _stay_.”

“ _Darling_ …”

He swallowed hard and exhaled through his nose, turning on his heel before storming out of the room. She stared after him as he went, the twitching turning into a full-body tremble. She started to go after him when Catcher threw his arms around her shoulders and hauled her back into his chest, a hand coming up to cradle her head when she sobbed in agony.

“ _OBI-WAN!_ ” She pulled on Catcher’s hold, twisting and thrashing hard. “ _I’M SORRY!_ ”

“Sweetheart,” Catcher was trying so hard not to hurt her but she wasn’t making it easy. Looking up at Anakin, who looked torn between being sick and _furious_ , the clone clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes. “You better fix this, Skywalker,”

Anakin blinked, waving a hand uselessly.

“I don’t…” he shook his head. “I don’t know…”

Pulling forward in Catcher’s arms, Iza nearly tossed the clone over her shoulders and let out a holler that rang through the entire apartment. Her voice cracked. Something electric in the next room popped. Her feet dragged against the tile as she fought to free herself from his grip. All the while, she begged for the older man to return, to forgive her for the cruel thing she’d said. She was sweating so hard that it dripped from her chin and soaked the hair that framed her face. The room was slowly becoming _cold_ despite this.

“ _Little Bit, please_ ,” pressing his face between her shoulder-blades as he struggled to keep a grip on her, Catcher sat down on the floor and tried to find some way to anchor himself. “Sweetheart, you’re going to hurt yourself,”

“ _I don’t care! I don’t **care**!_” Iza strained against his arms, face going purple as she grit her teeth. Stomping her feet when he wouldn’t release her, she screamed herself hoarse and turned pleading eyes to Anakin. “ _Cyar’ika!_ ”

He was dizzy. He couldn’t stand to look at her like this. Her agony was making him so sick. Looking towards the bedroom, he frowned hard. And then he was moving out of the room. He hadn’t remembered making the decision, but he didn’t care. Stomping clear through to the balcony, he almost ripped the slider from its track and startled Obi-Wan from whatever trance he’d been in as he smoked.

“How can you just listen to this?” He pointed back over his shoulder, snarling through his teeth. “ _How?!_ ”

“You must push her out of your head, Anakin,” Obi-Wan sounded choked as he said it, his blue eyes soft and terribly sad. His cheeks were damp, Anakin realized. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d truly seen the other man cry. “She is influencing you once again.”

“This is not her influence, Obi-Wan,” Anakin worked his jaw and shook his head. “She is _breaking_. You cannot—”

“ _She has **hurt** me, Anakin!_” Baring his teeth, the older man glared up at Anakin, eyes wild. “Am I not allowed to feel my own pain? Must I always smother it to keep the two of you happy?”

“Obi-Wan,”

“My dear, I do not want to listen to her suffering any more than you do,” looking away, Obi-Wan shook his head. “But I can’t just brush that off. I do not care how she meant it. I do not _care_ if it was not intended to wound me. _It has._ If she is allowed to be upset when we say things that hurt her feelings, then _we_ are allowed to be upset when she says such cruel things to us.”

“You did not have to make such an exit,” Anakin huffed, picking the packet of cigarettes up to tap one out and light it.

“I asked her politely the first time to release me,”

“You could have just talked to her.”

“No, Anakin,” huffing, the older man ran his fingers through his hair and shut his eyes. “You do not understand. This is much deeper for me than some stupid comment.”

“I understand exactly what it means to you, Obi-Wan. If anyone understands, it’s _me_.”

Hanging his head, Obi-Wan stubbed his cigarette out and hesitated before reaching for the packet again. He didn’t need another one. He shouldn’t have another one. But he needed something to do with his hands.

“She’s not herself, Obi-Wan,” Anakin’s voice was soft. “I know that doesn’t make it better, but you know she wouldn’t say something that hurtful if she were in her own head.”

“I am having a hard time trying to believe that,” Obi-Wan pressed his lips together tight around the filter, drawing in a deep drag. “It… is such a horrible thing for me to think, but I can’t pull apart her true feelings from these clouded ones anymore, Anakin. I will not be able to help her. As much as I want to, I lack the power.”

“So ask Mace,” moving to lean up against the railing, Anakin flicked his ash into the light breeze. “Don’t tell her and just _ask_. Maybe he can provide some help without having to see her.”

“That would be even more dishonest, Anakin. She would truly come to mistrust me if I did such a thing.”

“Then I’ll do it.”

“ _You will **not**._”

“Someone has to, Obi-Wan,” looking back over his shoulder, Anakin frowned. “Do you want her like this forever? You can’t complete your assignment while she’s like this. We can’t kill Tyranus and leave ourselves without a solution. _Mace_ was the only one who could untangle the mess Sidious left in _my_ head. You did your best— _you did_. But you said yourself that you lack the power.”

“I don’t know how to convince her, Anakin,” shaking his head, Obi-Wan turned a hand up.

“How do you convince her to do _anything_ , Obi-Wan?” Snorting, Anakin rolled his eyes and took the final drag of his cigarette, pinching it out between his fingers.

“I am not just going to go in there as though nothing is wrong and _fuck her_ , Anakin.” Blowing out an exasperated breath, the older man narrowed his eyes. “I do not think I could even get it up at the moment, if I’m to be completely honest.”

“I’m sure you could,” there was a light smirk on Anakin’s lips and it made Obi-Wan snort and shake his head.

“That is not a challenge, Anakin,” he rolled his eyes. “I _swear_ , the two of you are _impossible_.”

“Look,” coming over, Anakin reached and lightly brushed his fingers through the older man’s hair, watching him glance up. “I don’t hear her anymore. Catcher must’ve calmed her _somehow_. Give the dust time to settle. But—don’t fight her when she comes to you. I think she understands that she hurt you, Obi-Wan.”

“Mm,” Obi-Wan wasn’t entirely sure, if only because he didn’t know how much Iza was aware of _anything_ right now. She seemed to have little moments of clarity here and there, but she swapped between these strange personality changes so quickly that it was difficult to say what was _her_ and what wasn’t. For a while the two were silent, but when a thought flashed through his head, Obi-Wan looked up at Anakin curiously. “Did she come on to you?”

“What?”

“You said you were not the one to initiate the very _loud_ sex the two of you were having,” Obi-Wan snorted, an odd smile lifting his lips. “I assume she was the one who started it?”

“Er— _yeah_. We were having a conversation about why Tyranus wouldn’t have let me become an acolyte.” Absently, Anakin rubbed at his cybernetic arm and frowned, unwilling to look at Obi-Wan. “And then she insisted that she didn’t hold his beliefs. That I was perfect. It just… went from there.”

“Did she ask you to do anything _off-color?_ ”

“What do you mean?”

“Did she ask you to strike her, for instance?”

“ _No_ ,” Anakin looked horrified. “She wanted her hair pulled and to be choked. Nothing out of the ordinary. I might’ve done it a little harder than usual, but she didn’t throw the safe words out.”

“That’s what troubles me.” Sighing, Obi-Wan ran a hand down over his face and put his cigarette out. “I do not mind her taste for _kink_ , but she has been neglecting the boundaries lately. And there’s the little matter of how she was behaving when we got home. You saw her, Anakin. She didn’t even want Catcher to kiss her. I could not even get her in the Cleansing position for a Runi on the way home. And then…”

“I think you need to contact Mace before you ask permission, Obi-Wan,”

“I _can’t_ , Anakin,” slapping a hand down on the arm of the chair in frustration, Obi-Wan leaned his head back and huffed. “ _Trust_. All of this is built on _trust_.”

“I _know_ that, Obi-Wan. But sometimes—” Anakin paused at the echo of the hangar doors sliding open deeper within the compound. A confused frown tugged the corners of his lips and he looked to Obi-Wan before twisting to lean over the railing. “Have we cleared the departure of any ships tonight?”

“No…” Obi-Wan slowly rose from his seat, his stomach dropping out from beneath him when he recognized the starship rising into the air. “Oh no,”

“ _IZA!_ ” Tearing back into the apartment, Anakin found Catcher propped against the wall in the kitchen. He didn’t look like he’d been hurt, just knocked unconscious. Dropping to a crouch, Anakin tapped his face to wake him. “ _Hey_ , Catch!”

“Eh?” Blinking, the clone looked around in confusion. “What?”

“Where did Iza go?”

“Little Bit?” He blinked again and shook his head with a shrug. “Is she not in the bedroom?”

“ _Fuck_ ,” scrubbing his hands over his face, Anakin turned to find that Obi-Wan was already on his way out of the apartment. He didn’t want to leave Catcher alone and confused on the floor like this, but he also didn’t want to get left behind. “Catcher, did she say anything to you?”

“What are you talking about?” The clone looked even more confused.

“ _She’s gone, Catch_ ,”

Alarm flickered across the other man’s face and he rolled forward to get to his feet, stumbling and nearly smashing his chin into the counter. Righting himself, he grunted as he pulled himself upright and growled under his breath.

“ _Dammit, Little Bit_ ,” breathing hard, he shook his head. “The _fuck_ did she do to me?”

“Knocked you out,” Anakin stood to help him stand properly. “I don’t think you were supposed to be up for a while.”

“Where did she go?”

“I don’t know,” shaking his head, Anakin half dragged the other man with him as he started out of the apartment. He’d had half a mind to just leave him on the couch but had a bad feeling the clone would’ve just tried to follow after him anyway. “The starship just left. Obi-Wan’s already on his way to the hangar.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” growling through his teeth, Catcher blinked hard. “She was so upset. She wouldn’t stop crying. Does she even know how to fly that thing?”

“Unfortunately— _yes_ ,” Anakin was suddenly regretting the flying lessons he’d given her. “But we took the trackers out, remember? Figuring out where she went is going to be a damn nightmare.”

“She took her armor,” Obi-Wan was running up the walkway, breathing heavily. “Rex said she came in and just started pulling crates. She wouldn’t listen to anyone, wouldn’t talk to anyone. She just took her armor crate and an ammo crate and left.”

“What color?” Catcher asked, staring hard.

“What?”

“What color was the ammo crate, Obi-Wan?”

“I—you’d have to ask Rex.”

Swearing, Catcher pulled away from Anakin and swayed a little as he headed into the hangar. Watching him go, the younger of the two shifted his gaze to Obi-Wan and gestured towards the sky.

“What are we going to do?”

“We’re going to go after her, that’s what.” Letting out a scoffing laugh as though Anakin had just asked the stupidest question in the universe, Obi-Wan shook his head. “Go get dressed.”

“Obi-Wan—”

“ _Listen to me_ ,” fixing him with a hard look, Obi-Wan set his jaw. “We do not know what is going through her head right now. We do not even know where she is _going_ , Anakin. But do you really think it’s wise to let her loose on the galaxy while she’s like this? Because I don’t.”

“She has my crate,” Catcher ran up, breathless as ever, looking worried. “My rifle, my pistols— _everything_.”

“What does that mean?” Anakin asked.

“At the base? She’s about to kill something—or someone. What or who, I’ve got no idea.” Shrugging, Catcher raked his fingers through his hair and kicked at the sand. “She’s so _fucking_ unstable, it could be anyone.”

“Mace?” Anakin offered, looking at Obi-Wan.

“No,” the older man shook his head. “She wouldn’t use blasters against him.”

“We really don’t have a lot of time to sit around and figure out who she’s going after,” Catcher muttered, looking between the two. “If she has my gear, she has my comm. The tracker is still live in that thing.”

“You,” Anakin pointed at the clone and then at the hangar. “Get another starship fired up and ready to leave. I’ll get your go bag. _You_ —” grabbing Obi-Wan by the arm, he started dragging him down the path leading back to the apartment. “—you better start thinking about all the ways you can coax her into coming back with us because I’ve got a real _horrible_ feeling she won’t listen to anyone who isn’t _Master Kenobi_.”


	4. I Can See the Devil in Her Eyes

She couldn’t stop fucking _twitching_. As Iza sat in the cockpit of the starship, staring out of the transparisteel with a lit cigarette burning away between her fingers, she tried desperately to fight back the stupid tic. It worked for a short while. Kind of like how ignoring hiccups made them go away. But the minute she realized she’d stopped, it came back again. It might not have been so damn irritating if it didn’t jolt her from her thoughts so easily. Not that her thoughts were particularly _coherent_ at the moment. Everything seemed to swirl around in her skull in a mass of fog and whispers and mismatched tracks that got lost and went nowhere after a while. She could stay focused on thoughts of Anakin and Catcher for small periods of time, but bringing Obi-Wan into the mix brought _pain_ into her chest. She could still hear him yelling at her. Could still see his handsome face twisted with such fury and disdain for her. She wished she was a better girl. Maybe he would still love her if she were a better girl.

Where was she going? She could not remember her master’s orders. The communicator with the recording was around here _somewhere_. She had placed it down when she’d changed into the blacks. They were so loose now. She wondered when she’d lost the weight. Maybe this wasn’t her body glove. It had been in her crate—but a lot of things seemed to get mixed up in the hangar. Nobody kept their things in their own crates anymore. Getting up from the chair, she wandered into the sleeping chamber where she’d left her tunic and found the disc on the cot. She could smell Obi-Wan in here. That damn linen soap of his lingered on _everything._ She took the disc and left the room so she wouldn’t have to stew in the stench. Putting her cigarette out on the arm of the chair, she tossed the filter somewhere in the corner and pushed a button to replay the message she’d received, flinching when the miniature version of Lord Tyranus popped up in her palm.

“ _Tacor, you did not complete your lesson. You will go to Nal Hutta and **finish** your job. I want Asajj Ventress **dead**._”

 _Nal Hutta._ That’s right. It was that hideous, swampy place. She’d been there once before for a fuel-up during the war. She didn’t know why Asajj would be there. But if that was where Lord Tyranus said she was—that was where Iza would go. The disc was tossed onto the chair beside her and she got to her feet to slowly pace the corridor. It helped her think. Tapping her fingers against the column of her lightsaber also helped her think. It also reminded her of how it irritated Obi-Wan when she fidgeted. Her head twitched so violently that her neck popped. _No_. She could not think of him right now. She could not think of him and his dreadful face. His eyes were so beautiful though. Even when he scolded her and stole her breath away with the vicious grip of the Force—his eyes were always so pretty.

 _Beeping_. Something was beeping. Going back over to the console to make sure there wasn’t something wrong with the starship, she frowned when she found nothing. _But there was a beeping_. It wasn’t the communicator. She’d turned it off. Maybe she had not closed the crate completely. These stupid things were so finicky. Wandering to where she’d left the ammo and armor crates, Iza squinted when she realized the beeping was coming from the _unopened_ crate. _Strange_. She hoped a droid popper hadn’t accidentally been activated. She was not in the mood to have the whole ship shut down because of a rogue EMP. Opening the crate she moved the blaster pistols and DC-15S aside and made a face when she found a comm bracer underneath. _Catcher, you idiot_. Picking it up, she turned it over a few times and eyed it before cautiously tapping the button with the blinking light. _Surely_ the communication lines didn’t work anymore?

“This is General Tacor,” she said firmly, staring down at the bracer like she was afraid it’d explode.

“ _Little Bit?_ ”

Her head did something funny. It felt like a single shock of electricity buzzed through her entire skull and left it fuzzy with static. She could hear the clones in the background, muttering their tactical chatter. They were always so damn _loud_. She couldn’t concentrate. She could never hear Catcher over these fucking comms when they were on the field.

“Commander?” She was confused. The war was over… _wasn’t it?_ “Commander is there a problem?”

“…Iza?” Catcher sounded strange. He never addressed her by her first name when they were on assignment. He must not have been around anyone important. “Sweetheart, where are you?”

“Business,” she had her orders. She had to follow them. _A good soldier always followed orders._ “Did you need something, Commander?”

“Trying to get to you, sweetheart,” she could hear him smiling. “We’re a _team_ , remember?”

“Jedi… _General_ business, Catch,” where was she going again?

“I go where my General goes. It’s in the rules.”

“Not always,” her head hurt. She couldn’t hold back the twitching anymore. She needed another cigarette. “Slade? _Slade?_ ”

Twisting, she found the cockpit empty and was horribly confused. No— _wait_. She had orders. _Nal Hutta. **Kill Asajj Ventress**._ She was alone. The war was over. _She was **alone**._

“Sweetheart?” Catcher sounded worried. She would take the bracer with her while she crawled back to the captain’s chair and lit another one of Anakin’s cigarettes. “Little Bit, please talk to me,”

“I’m cold, Catch,” she couldn’t figure out how to use the heating unit, either. She twitched and knocked her head against the side of the chair with a grunt. “Are the Stars okay?”

“The Stars are just fine, sweetheart. Resting up for the next big one.”

“Hey,” she smiled lazily and took a slow drag of the cigarette. “I borrowed your pistols. I’ll clean them for you when I’m done. I promise.”

“Sweetheart, where did you go?”

“I didn’t finish my lesson,” she whispered, shrugging at the empty space of the starship.

“Your lesson?”

“I have orders.”

“ _Orders?_ ”

“Mm,” popping the cigarette between her lips, she pulled herself up into the seat and looked over the console to see where she was. It wouldn’t be much longer before she reached Nal Hutta. Maybe an hour. “I’m a soldier, Catcher. I must follow the orders I’ve been given.”

“Little Bit,” his voice had gone soft. She could tell he was making _that face_. The sweet one he always made before he would touch her cheek or kiss her. She wished he was here. She could use one of his kisses. Maybe she would be able to feel something other than cold static if he gave her one of his kisses.

“I have to go, Commander,” smiling tightly, Iza looked down at the bracer and suddenly wished it had a holotransmitter. She wanted to see his face. “Behave yourself.”

“Always, sweetheart,” he blew out a hard breath on the other end. _Goodbyes_ were always tough on them. “Be safe, Little Bit.”

“Roger that, gorgeous.” Tapping her thumb against the lit up button, Iza felt the strange static in her head drain away to a numbness that made her face tingle. What a funny conversation to have. They didn’t even talk _tactics_. Then again, Catcher never really called her for _tactical talk_. Tossing the bracer onto the chair beside the comm disc, Iza turned the captain’s chair to look out of the transparisteel. She did not know how she would spend her time waiting to get to Nal Hutta, but at least she would have sweet thoughts of her pretty clone Commander in her head to keep her company for the rest of the trip.

~*~*~*~

“Something is _wrong_ ,” Catcher looked _sick_ as he closed his end of the call, shaking his head. “She hasn’t called me _Commander_ in… _months._ ”

“She was yelling for Slade,” Anakin stared at the other man, frowning hard. “Rex said she was the only one who left.”

“She was looking for a cigarette,” the clone ran his fingers through his hair. “I heard her lighting one up. She’s hallucinating.”

“ _Hallucinating?_ ”

“That’s the only thing I can think of,” turning his hands up, Catcher stared at Anakin and shrugged. “She’s talking like the war is still going. Said something about a _lesson_ she didn’t finish, and _orders_.”

“ _Obi-Wan!_ ” Turning to stalk up into the cockpit, Anakin found the older man deep in thought and slouched in one of the chairs. He looked up in surprise at the sound of his name and blinked rapidly.

“What is it?”

“What lesson didn’t she finish?” Anakin folded his arms and stared down at Obi-Wan accusingly. “Catcher said she mentioned an unfinished lesson and having _orders_.”

“Asajj,” rubbing a hand over his beard, Obi-Wan fought back the urge to swear and shut his eyes. “She tried to kill her before we left. I didn’t ask her _why_ because she didn’t appear to remember it. They were fine with one another before that. I don’t know what happened to—” he paused, remembering Iza’s accusation of him _marking_ the other woman and how she’d shrieked of being _shown_ these things. “ _Force_ ,”

“What?” Anakin tilted his head, brows knit in concern.

“It is not just her traumas he feeds her to motivate her darkness,” the older man sighed heavily. “He shows her manipulated memories. She asked me about _Satine_.”

“What does Satine have to do with Ventress?”

“His manipulations are playing on her fear of losing me to other women, Anakin. That is the only thing I can think of. He has shown her… _memories_ of myself and Satine pulled from _my_ mind. He has also shown her memories of Asajj and myself—they were not _mine_. He skewed them in a way that put her in a rage I’ve never seen before. I truly think that if I had not interfered, she would have murdered her.”

“Why you?” Anakin asked quietly, eyeing him.

“Why me?” Obi-Wan looked confused for a moment. “I do not know, Anakin. I can’t understand any of it any more than _you_ can.”

“He has not shown her vile things of me? Or of Catcher?”

“Anakin this is a rather inappropriate time to be _jealous_ ,”

“I’m not…” heaving a sigh, the younger man ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “You don’t find it a little weird that his focus seems to be to drive the two of you apart? He forces you to brutalize her to prove your loyalty to him and tortures her with imagery of you with other women. _Obi-Wan_ , he is attempting to divide you. He will send her after _you_ next.”

“Nonsense,” even as he said it, Obi-Wan wasn’t so sure. “He knows she wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Exactly.” Anakin dropped into the other seat and gestured. “ _Exactly_ , Obi-Wan. I don’t know what your _final assignment_ is, but I don’t think it’s what you believe it to be.”

Obi-Wan frowned hard in thought before getting to his feet to head into the back where Catcher was. The clone still looked disturbed as he sat turning his communicator over in his hands. Looking up when he heard the other man approach, he leaned back and raised an eyebrow.

“What did she say, Catcher?”

“Eh? A bunch of gibberish, that’s what.” Looking away, Catcher gestured to the device beside him. “Tracker is pointing her in the direction of Nal Hutta. No idea what she’d be doing out on that pit, but that’s where the starship seems to be going.”

“How did she sound?”

“Confused. She sounded fucking _confused_ , Kenobi.” Sitting back against the wall, Catcher huffed out an angry breath and scowled at his feet. “She said she was _cold_ and then she asked me about the Stars like it was nothing. If we were still at war I’d say she sounded like _herself_. _But we’re **not**._”

“Did she say anything else that seemed… _off?_ ”

“Other than shouting for a trooper that wasn’t there? No. She signed off the same way we used to and everything.” Catcher let out a dry laugh and mocked quietly, “ _Roger that, gorgeous._ ”

“We’re not too far out from Nal Hutta. We can’t be _that_ far behind her.”

“We won’t catch up to her in this clunker,” Catcher muttered, looking around. “Not after the strip-job Skywalker put it through for parts for the main starship.”

“Look—” Anakin had decided to join the party again. “—I told you to fire up another starship. I didn’t tell you to take the one we use for spare parts.”

“Rex wouldn’t let me have the blue one.”

“That’s because Rex cherishes that thing like it’s a second _dick_.” Rolling his eyes, Anakin scoffed.

“Little Bit would blow her top if we brought the Star Cruiser. The junkheap was the only option. Everything else was being worked on.”

“The ship runs. That’s what matters.” Obi-Wan muttered from where he’d leaned against the wall, rubbing at his beard. “I can’t figure out what the _hell_ Asajj would be doing on Nal Hutta. Or how Tyranus knew that was where she was going.”

“Nal Hutta usually isn’t a final destination point for most people,” Anakin shrugged. “The Hutts are pretty _picky_ about who can settle in there and most people don’t like the environment. It’s probably a mid-point or a pit stop.”

“She isn’t answering her comm so I can’t _ask._ ”

“You two keep in touch?”

Obi-Wan gave an irritated scoff and shot an equally irritated look at the other man.

“You remember we work for the same man, correct? Sometimes, it’s necessary to stay in contact. Do not read into it, Anakin.”

Putting his hands up, Anakin looked away.

“Do you think she’ll really do it?” Catcher asked, mostly to diffuse the situation between the two men. “I mean—we know how she feels about that woman. _We all know_. Do you think…?”

“You did not see her, Catcher,” Obi-Wan shook his head. “She was so full of rage that I believe wholeheartedly that she would have taken her head off if Asajj was not as skilled as she is.”

“I can bet that I’ve seen exactly what you’re talking about,” the clone snorted, an amused smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. Tapping the spot on his chin where the hair didn’t quite grow in right because of the scar, his smirk grew wider. “When I say she _lost her shit_ , I mean **_she lost her shit_**. It’s not good when she gets like that either. Someone could cave half her face in and she’ll keep going until they’re dead.”

“That’s very comforting, Catcher. Thank you.”

“I’m not trying to comfort you. I’m warning you. If she’s actively engaged with that woman, don’t fucking get involved.” The clone stared up at Obi-Wan, hazel-tinged eyes narrowed. “She will _hurt you_. She doesn’t give a shit when she’s in that headspace. So unless you want her to come out of it feeling guiltier because she’s done something to _you_ —stay out of her way.”

“I cannot just allow her to assassinate Asajj. _That_ would upset her greatly as well.”

“Then find some way to do it indirectly,” getting to his feet, Catcher huffed out a breath. “Use one of your little magic tricks or something. But I’ve had enough of the misery she’s shoved down our bond because of your stunt in the apartment.” Gritting his teeth, he tapped the side of his head and fought not to glare. “I _still_ hear her screaming for you. I get it, man. I get it. She can say some real thoughtless shit sometimes. But you _swore to me_ you wouldn’t put that kind of pain into her.”

“I am allowed my own feelings, Catcher.” Obi-Wan said quietly, features neutral.

“Yeah—you are. But you sure seem to like fucking with _hers_ for someone who says he loves her.”

“Hey—”Anakin stepped in between the two with his hands held up to keep either of them from potentially attacking the other. “None of this shit, okay? We need to focus on the situation. We can deal with everything else later.”

“Fine by me,” giving Obi-Wan a disgusted look, Catcher turned to storm into the room behind him. “Remember what I said, Kenobi. _Stay out of her way._ ”

When the door had slid shut behind the clone, Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes and snorted. Giving a shake of his head, he glanced at Anakin.

“Do not give me that look,” the older man muttered, turning to head back to the cockpit. “I did not start that argument.”

“I know that,” following after him, Anakin sat down in one of the chairs and glanced over the nav system. “I don’t think Catcher learned how to _stop_ taking from Iza’s darkness.”

“His Midi-chlorian reading was high enough to indicate he’s attuned enough to feel the effects of her turmoil,” Obi-Wan waved a hand, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure Catcher hadn’t decided to come back out of the room. “It would not surprise me if this agitation is a by-product of Iza’s frustrations.”

“There’s not much we can do about it.”

“No, there isn’t.”

“What do you think we ought to do about the Ventress situation?” Tapping his fingers against the arm of the chair, Anakin eyed the other man, getting a weary look in return.

“We hope that we make it in time to do something about it. That’s what we do, my dear.”

~*~*~*~

Nal Hutta was such a _pit_. If she had not been trying to throw Tyranus off her scent, Asajj would not have even made her way out here. But she did not want to bring his forces to Dathomir. Mother Talzin would be shocked enough as it was to see her— _perhaps not_ , considering. Bringing unnecessary baggage would only cause trouble. At least she could fuel up and trade her clothes for something a little more _fitting_ to her tastes. And at least the bar served proper liquor. The entertainment wasn’t terrible, but she’d seen enough Twi’lek shows to have seen them all. Besides, her mind was preoccupied with _planning_. She could not stay on Dathomir long. She could not stay _anywhere_ for very long, come to think of it. Tyranus would continue his quest to assassinate her—she would _love_ to know why. Ever since her master had taken Kenobi’s little _pet_ into his clutches, he’d grown increasingly intolerant of her. _Dooku_ had never been an overly kind man, but he’d treated her with some semblance of respect. Tyranus was a beast with no tolerance for mistakes. _Respect_ was not in his vocabulary when it came to her. For all the power he knew she held, he was sure quick to toss her to the wind in favor of a _child_ with no training at all. It was disgusting how he favored Kenobi and his fucking playtoys.

Still—she supposed she could see where her master had found potential in the little one. The ferocity with which she’d attacked her had stunned her. It had taken some time for Asajj to recognize the form of combat as one she’d only seen used by _one_ other Force user before. It was such a seemingly wild and unpredictable mess of hack and slash with no grace or thought put behind the strikes; of course a girl like that would have been taught such a form. Vaguely, she’d wondered if the man had been the little one’s master at the Jedi Temple. And then she’d decided she didn’t care and ordered herself another drink. Iza’s threat still rang in her head, though. If only because she’d said it with so much of her _heart_ behind it that Asajj felt she had no choice but to believe her. That soft, petite little woman did not seem capable of delivering the sort of suffering she promised. And yet—she’d felt a slight tremor within her that warned her not to take the chance. It wasn’t fear. Asajj Ventress didn’t _fear_ anything. There was just too much promise in those words, too much _hate_ in her eyes for her not to take it seriously. _Funny_. She’d always thought her master would have Kenobi take her out—or attempt to. He was too soft-hearted to slaughter her. They’d had too much _fun_ together. Cruel as that man could be, he could not bring himself to complete the order.

But she was sure his little _pet_ could.

She was probably about five drinks deep now when a sixth was set in front of her. Casting a look down at it, then back at the service droid, she snorted and nudged it back towards him.

“I didn’t order this,”

“Compliments of the house,” the droid buzzed back, ocular sensors blinking. Asajj stared for a long moment. _The house?_ She didn’t know any of these Hutts personally. She’d never had dealings with any of them— _well_ , maybe a very long time ago. But not directly. Sucking her teeth, she picked the glass up and peered into it, holding it up to the light and tipping it like she was looking for a capsule or sediment at the bottom. She trusted _no one_. Setting it back down, she decided it wasn’t worth the risk and rapped her knuckles on the counter for a refill on what she’d already been drinking. Bringing it to her lips, she almost choked when the heavy press of a soft, _familiar_ body settled against her back.

“I thought you liked whiskey?” Iza’s voice was a deep purr in her ear, breath warm on her neck as she settled her chin on her shoulder. Asajj stiffened, one hand going to retrieve one of the sabers at her belt. She froze when the sharp point of a vibroblade grazed her belly, pressing in enough to make her abdomen clench. “ _I wouldn’t_.”

“What do you want?” Asajj knew exactly what the little bitch wanted. She needed time to think of an escape plan.

“ _You_ ,” lips brushed against the edge of her ear, teeth following suit. “We didn’t get to finish what we started.”

Asajj let out a humorless laugh, bringing her glass back to her lips to drain it. She flinched when Iza reached over her shoulder to pick up the abandoned drink, ice-blue eyes following as the girl knocked it back in one swallow. She’d forgotten how hard the girl could drink. Grunting as the older woman pushed more of her weight against her back Asajj became aware of another object pressing against her hip. It didn’t feel like a lightsaber hilt. That was a blaster pistol.

“Are you alone?” Asajj asked finally, tilting her head to look at the other woman. It was still so startling to see the gold in her eyes like that. “Or is Kenobi with you?”

“Kenobi _who?_ ” A dangerous sort of look crossed Iza’s face and Asajj almost reeled back. She wasn’t sure if it was the shock of the girl’s tone or expression or the fact that she’d spat Kenobi’s name like filth from her tongue but that had startled her a little.

“I see,” eyeing the older woman, she wondered what the hell had happened in the—what? _Two, three days?_ —since she’d last seen them. The soft scrape of the blade against her belly made her suck in a sharp breath and she watched as Iza nestled her cheek on her shoulder, giving her that _awful_ pleading look of hers.

“Come play with me, Asajj,” Iza poked her bottom lip out. _Disgusting, pitiful little bitch._ “Don’t you want a proper taste of me?”

_Oh, but what a filthy, disgusting— **delightful** little whore._

“What do you plan to do with the knife, Little One?” _Well_ —it didn’t hurt to ask.

“Nothing,” Iza shrugged and smiled slow. “I would like you to use it on _me_.”

Asajj could not find the right words to respond with. _Broken_. That was a good place to start. The girl was completely and utterly broken if she was asking for her to use that blade on her. But maybe she could use this as means of escape. Despite what the little one’s attitude was, Asajj knew damn well Kenobi would still skin her alive if she even _thought_ about touching that vibroblade to his precious pet’s flesh. However—that did not mean she couldn’t play along. Tilting her head, she eyed the other woman for a moment and _hummed_ thoughtfully. A hand came up and she traced a fingertip over Iza’s cheek, dragging it across her bottom lip and raising a hairless brow when the girl opened her mouth and gently drew the tip between her teeth. Something about the way the brunette swept her tongue in slow swirls around the pad of her finger made her belly warm. _Damn her._ Pulling her hand back, she pursed her lips in annoyance and got a soft smile in return. _Little bitch._

“Where do you propose we go?” Asajj asked when she was sure her voice would not betray her. The last thing she needed was for Iza to know that she was making her resolve crumble.

“My starship is in the shipyard,” picking her head up, the brunette caught the other woman’s earlobe between her teeth and nibbled playfully, eliciting a hard shiver from Asajj. Snickering, she slid her free hand along her hip beneath the counter, dragging her fingers lower until the pale-skinned woman snapped her knees shut.

“ _Iza_ ,”

“May I?” _Consent_. At least the little brat _somewhat_ remembered her morals. Asajj hesitated, however. It was one thing to allow it in a club where such a thing was normal. But this was a bar owned by gangsters who might not take kindly to such acts. Never mind that they had dancers parading around in nearly nothing, teasing the patrons and causing fights over them. _This was different_. _Hell’s bells_ —the way the brunette was squeezing her thigh was hard to ignore, though. Asajj couldn’t remember the last time she’d bedded a woman. Her last excursion had been quick and unsatisfying—business deals always were. Even knowing how inexperienced Iza was, there was such _promise_ in her touch and she’d been pleading for so damn long. Maybe it was time to give in. Maybe it was time to give in to her own damn temptations. To hell with Kenobi.

“Be discreet,” Asajj warned, shifting on her stool as she parted her knees. She heard a soft giggle and felt the hem of her skirt slide higher on her thighs. The crotch of her bodysuit was nudged aside and she stiffened visibly on the stool when Iza’s fingers slid slowly over the flesh they found beneath.

“ _Oh,_ ” the little bitch sounded amused as she delved her fingers between the slick folds and rubbed in slow passes until Asajj had to fight not to squirm. “You’re _wet._ ”

“Shut your mouth,” tapping against the counter, Asajj gestured to their glasses but didn’t look at the droid directly when it came over to refill them.

“What did it for you, hm?” Iza nuzzled her chin into the crook of her neck, looking for all the world like an overly affectionate girlfriend as she press-rubbed the pads of her fingers in circles around Asajj’s clit beneath the counter. “The idea of getting to cut me open? Maybe the idea of finally getting to put my pussy in your mouth?”

“Are you always so _crude?_ ”

“I think you enjoy it,” biting at her bottom lip, Iza tucked her hand further between the other woman’s thighs and slipped her fingers inside of her, eyes widening when she felt her tighten around her. “I will take that as a _yes._ ”

Asajj could not make sense of the thoughts in her own head. Her body was so busy reacting to the way Iza was touching her that she could barely think straight. Concentrating on keeping her breathing steady was becoming a chore and twice, she’d let soft moans slip past her lips. _What was she doing to her?_ How sure was she that this girl had _never_ touched another woman? Unable to help herself, Asajj propped her feet on the second highest rung of the stool and shifted to reposition her hips, opening herself more fully to Iza’s touch. This encouraged the other woman to press closer to her back, pump her fingers deeper, ply some sinfully sensitive spot that made Asajj jump and bang her knees against the counter. Thankfully, it was so damn loud in here that no one seemed to notice. She tried to distract herself by sipping at her drink, but most of it ended up dribbling down her chin. She couldn’t breathe. The sweeps of Iza’s thumb against her clit were quick and hit such a sharply sensitive nerve that she whimpered whenever it was touched.

“Asajj,” Iza’s breath was so damn _hot_ against her skin. She couldn’t speak. Asajj could only grunt in response. The brunette giggled against her neck, slowing the pace of her fingers until the other woman was rocking her hips to try and get her to quicken it again. “ _Look at you_.”

“ _Shut up_ ,” she was gripping the counter now, head pressed hard against Iza’s shoulder as she grit her teeth and worked against her hand. _Close. **So** close._ The hard sting of teeth against her neck startled her, but wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Gasping when Iza focused all of her attention on her clit, she ground her hips down on her fingers and brought a hand to her mouth to hide the way she was breathing. Her body shivered and tightened around the other girl’s fingers, hips twitching hard as she fought not to make a sound. It wasn’t easy. Her knees hit the underside of the counter again more than once and she almost shouted when Iza withdrew her fingers to trace them in slow circles over the super-sensitive nub of her clit. She couldn’t take it. She started reaching for the other girl’s wrist when she felt the hard press of the vibroblade against her belly again.

“I really don’t want to,” Iza kissed the side of her head, humming. “ _But orders are orders._ ”

The harsh, quick swipe sent a shockwave of pain through Asajj that overrode the pleasure buzzing through her. Her body was confused. It didn’t know how to process the sudden sharpness of an open wound when it had been enjoying such a lovely high moments before. The loss of heat and pressure against her back signaled the departure of the other woman. Asajj couldn’t move. There was so much _blood_. Her feet got caught on the stool when she tried to move back and she fell, eliciting screams from the dancers and shouts of horror from patrons. As she lay struggling to breathe with her hands pressed tight over the bleeding gash, Asajj cursed herself for being so foolish. This was what happened when you trusted a pretty face. She should have killed her when she’d had the fucking chance. She never should have hesitated. _To hell with Kenobi_. She hoped he’d be proud of his little pet while she still belonged to him.

She would not belong to _him_ much longer.

~*~*~*~

The casualty with which Iza sucked her fingers was almost _vulgar_. Perhaps only second to how she strolled out of the bar with blood rolling down her arm and staining the front of her blacks. The vibroblade was wiped off on her thigh before she holstered it, and she started to go for the packet of cigarettes in her belt pouch when she felt a familiar _shift_ in the air around her. Reaching into the Force, a bitter smile spread across her lips and she turned to find her sweet little trio of lovers standing off near the pawn shop wearing identical expressions of horror. Plucking a cigarette free, she popped it between her lips and got it lit, wiggling bloodied fingers in their direction before continuing towards where she’d left her starship. _Three… two… one…_

Throwing a hand back, she yanked the lightsaber from the back of her belt and ignited it, holding it up in front of her defensively as Obi-Wan skid to a halt. Taking a slow drag, she eyed him and exhaled, whipping her head to flick one of the twin braids she wore over her shoulder.

“The _fuck_ do you want?”

“Darling,” he looked at her as though he didn’t recognize her. “What have you done?”

“She said I could,” Iza shrugged, taking another drag and twirling her lightsaber around her knuckles with a smile. Pausing, she pointed the end at him. “ _What do you want?_ ”

“To talk,”

“Mm,” she snorted, smoke puffing lightly from her nostrils. “ _Now_ you want to talk?”

“My darling,” he didn’t dare approach her. Something about seeing her stained in blood while carelessly wielding her lightsaber like this disturbed him. “I did not mean to upset you.”

“You ignored me.” She glared at him. Those gold eyes of hers had taken on the softest hint of red around the edge of the iris. “You would not let me apologize.”

“Iza,” Obi-Wan didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t entirely sure how to handle the whole situation. He had a horrible feeling about the mess she’d left behind in the bar—he hoped Anakin and Catcher would get to Asajj in time—and he could not think of a single thing that might pacify the woman standing before him. Well— _no_. He could think of something, but his body would not comply with it. He knew it wouldn’t. She would realize it was a façade and he would put himself in danger for nothing.

“You do not love me.” Her cigarette was flicked into the dirt and crushed beneath the heel of her boot. Blood was spattered across the toes.

“That’s not true,” he took a step closer without meaning to, flinching when she lifted the lightsaber. He put his hands up. “I am unarmed, darling.”

“ _For now_.”

“I will not attack you.” Obi-Wan leveled his gaze with hers and gave a pleading look. “Trust me, darling. _Please_ trust me.”

Iza stared at him, breathing shallowly as her eyes shifted like she was searching for a lie. He felt her reaching along their bond and relaxed to allow her access. He would not hide from her. He couldn’t help noticing that Catcher was right; her Force energy had gone nearly black against the soft blue of his own. After a few tense moments, she deactivated the lightsaber and hung it from the back of her belt again, straightening her spine.

“You screamed at me.” Her face hardened with anger. The traces of playfulness that had been there before had been completely erased. “You would not let me say I was sorry.”

“I know,” he had felt like a bastard for yelling the way he did. He still felt he was very much in the right for being upset, but maybe he’d been too harsh about it. Offering a soft look, he tilted his head. “You hurt my feelings, darling.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“You cannot say things like that to me. You know how important _trust_ is for us, Iza. I would never do anything to betray your trust. _Never_.”

“But you _have_ ,” the pained look on her face made his chest tighten. “You have and you _know_ you have.”

“I warned you, Iza. I warned you very heavily that I would not behave the same way on Serenno as I do when we are at home.”

“So that makes it _okay_ to say the things you do? To put your hands on me and—”

“I do not _enjoy_ it. You _must_ know that.”

“I think you do.” Iza stared him dead in the face when she said it, her chin tipping up slightly as a frown pulled at the edges of her mouth. “You fuck me so hard when we leave that place after you’ve been vile to me. You do not fool me, Obi-Wan. I know about your _buttons_. I know the things that really get you off.”

“There is a difference between enjoying rough sex and enjoying the act of abusing a woman, Iza,” Obi-Wan was horrified she’d even suggest it. Sure, he had some _kinks_. He had a lot of them that he didn’t even discuss. But this definitely was **_not_** one of them.

“So are you just using me to blow off that extra steam, then?” Smiling a little, Iza raised an eyebrow. “Are you doing the very thing you get so _angry_ with me for attempting to do with you and Anakin when I need it?”

He didn’t say anything. His guilty look could tell her everything she needed to know. He heard her scoff and heard the sound of her boots on the dirt, moving away from him.

“Darling,” moving to follow after her, he was surprised she didn’t try drawing her weapon again. “Iza, my love, _wait!_ ”

“ _You do not **love** me!_” Spinning, she pointed a bloodied finger at him and let loose the torrent of tears that had been steadily gathering while they spoke. “I am nothing but a _toy_ to you! You don’t even have the fucking balls to admit it. For all the begging and pleading I’ve done—all the _hopeless_ wishing for you to feel the way I feel for you. **_I AM STILL A PET_** _!_ ”

“That is _not_ true,” cautiously, he stepped closer, unsure of how safe it was to do so. “I love you dearly, darling. Would I chase you halfway across the galaxy if I didn’t?”

“How do I know Anakin and Catcher didn’t just _drag_ you along for the ride?” She’d bristled as he got closer but made no move to turn tail or draw the pistols at her hips. “How do I know you’re not just _lying_ to me again?”

“Please,” he felt rocks dig into his knees when they hit the dirt, but he would not move. Looking up at her with sad, defeated eyes, the older man blew out a harsh breath and swallowed thickly. “ _Reach_ , darling. Look as closely as you want. You will see that I am not lying.” He threw his hands out at his sides and huffed again. “I cannot… I will not let him keep you clouded this way. Tyranus has stolen you from me, my darling. But if you just _look_ —you will see that my love for you has not changed.”

Iza stared down at him, unblinking. After a moment or so, she shut her eyes and drew in a deep breath and Obi-Wan felt the hard push of her forcing herself in along their bond. She normally was not so aggressive about it. He jerked when he felt her palm coming to rest against his head but didn’t move. It seemed to help ease the way she was struggling to fully connect with him. Doing his best to keep his breathing even and deep, Obi-Wan fought back against the reflex to kick her out of the more private places in his head. There were things he still did not want her to see—for her own good—but he’d told her she could go where she pleased. She seemed to skim over anything she didn’t care about. She was searching for something _specific_. He felt his chest grow tight before a heavy warmth spread through it when she found exactly what she wanted. She gasped sharply above him, nails pricking his scalp when that warmth eased up the bond and brightened her Force energy a few shades. She sobbed out, the sound heavy and harsh. Obi-Wan opened his eyes in time to see her knees buckle and he threw his arms out to catch her before she fell into the dirt.

“Darling,” he gathered her against his chest awkwardly. She still had her hand pressed to his head, fingers tangled lightly in his hair. The sobbing grew louder, more panicked. Her hand slid from its place on his head and she clutched it to her chest, looking horribly lost as she curled up on his lap.

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,” her little whimpers were heartbreaking. He had a terrible feeling that she was coming back into herself and the realization of her actions was sinking in. The red in her eyes had faded back to a simple gold.

“Shhh, my darling,” pressing his lips to the side of her head, he cradled her to him and shut his eyes. “It’s all right. I have you.”

“What have I done?” She stared down at the blood on her hand and leaned back, swiping at what stained her blacks frantically. “ _Obi-Wan!_ ”

“My love,” he gently took hold of her chin to turn her face towards his, leveling their gazes carefully. “May I have you?”

“What?” Her head twitched lightly as she stared at him, confused. Leaning in, he gave a gentle kiss to her lips and hovered his forehead over hers.

“May I have you?”

Iza rushed forward to press her forehead into his, nodding as she squeezed her eyes tight and fought not to sob in his face.

“Make it go away, Obi-Wan,” she twisted in his arms and clutched at the front of his tunic, pulling. “ _Make it stop._ ”

“I shall,” he whispered, bringing his hands up to cup her face. “Just relax and breathe for me, my darling.”

~*~*~*~

Catcher stared at the drying puddle of blood on the floor through the spaces of his fingers and tried to make sense of everything. On the other side of the room, Anakin stood with the very dazed, bandaged Asajj. They’d gotten into the bar in time to see some _good Samaritan_ slapping a bacta patch over the gash on Asajj’s abdomen. Anakin had done a small bit of healing to help aid the process as well—but mostly just wanted the woman awake to get some answers. She seemed surprised to even be alive. She seemed _worried_ to be alive, as well. No matter how many times she was asked, she wouldn’t say anything about what had transpired between her and Iza before she’d been left to bleed out in the bar. Nobody had seen anything. The Hutts hadn’t even known Iza was there. Anakin was lucky he was in such good graces with them or else this could’ve turned sour _fast_. It paid to know the right kind of _wrong_ people, Catcher supposed.

“We’re going to get her to her ship,” Anakin’s voice startled him from his thoughts and Catcher looked away from the puddle, dazed.

“Eh?”

“We’re going to take Ventress to where she left her ship.” The younger man squinted lightly and pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” waving a hand, Catcher got up from his seat, casting another glance at the spot. “It’s just a little unsettling.”

“Unsettling? You’ve seen her tear into whole waves of _organic_ armies, Catcher. _This_ unsettles you?”

“She _cares_ for this woman, Anakin,” the clone set his jaw and looked elsewhere. “It’s different. This is so… _personal_.”

“It’s meant to be.” Giving the other man a look, Anakin shrugged. “The more personal the dark deed, the more damage it does when she comes back to reality. I admit I wasn’t expecting her to try and gut Asajj. Not after she took your pistols.”

“I should have remembered Karver’s fucking vibro was in there.” Catcher shook his head. “All of our shit got so jumbled during the move. I forgot—”

“Hey, _stop_ ,” putting a hand on Catcher’s shoulder, Anakin jolted him a little. “Iza was going to do this one way or the other. Don’t try blaming yourself. Trust me—it’s better that way.”

“Are you ready, Skywalker?” Asajj’s rough voice grumbled as she approached slowly, looking irritated and tired. Her eyes shifted from the Dark Jedi to the clone before rolling slightly. “I don’t know _your_ name.”

“Catcher,” giving a light nod, he cautiously offered an arm. Asajj snorted.

“I can walk on my own— _thank you_.” As if to prove this, she took a few steps before swaying and stumbling lightly. Anakin caught her by the arm and gave her a look.

“This will go faster if you don’t fight.” He muttered, moving to lead her out of the bar. “Where did you leave the ship?”

“Back behind the pawn shop.” Huffing, Asajj glared at him in annoyance. “Are you going to fly me to Dathomir too?”

“Nope,” Anakin shot a look at Catcher and jerked his head towards the door. “Look and see if you can spot them. I don’t want Iza to see her.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” brushing past the two, Catcher headed outside and looked around, frowning. Last he’d seen, Kenobi hadn’t gone very far with her. Neither one of them were in sight, however. He could see their starship where they’d left it, but had no idea where Little Bit had left _hers_. Grunting, he turned back and poked his head through the doorway. “All clear. They’re not even out here.”

“ _What?_ ” Anakin looked startled but couldn’t rush his way out like he wanted to.

“Did you leave her with Kenobi?” Asajj asked, glancing up at him.

“Who else?”

The woman let out as much of a laugh that her wounded belly would allow and shook her head, sighing.

“You foolish boy,” she brought an arm up to block the sunlight as they headed outside and began the trek towards the pawn shop. “Do you know what sort of state she was in when she left me? _Horny_ and _bloodthirsty_ is like Sansanna spice for that man. You’ve been with him long enough. I’m surprised you don’t know that.”

“I can leave you here,” Anakin stopped dead, looking her in the eye with a hard expression on his face. “I can just drop you and let you crawl.”

“Anakin,”

“Shut up, Catcher,” narrowing his eyes at Asajj, Anakin worked his jaw and gave her arm a hard jerk to get her moving again. “I don’t know what you _think_ you know, but—”

“I know enough, Skywalker,” Asajj thinned her lips. “I hope the three of you are prepared to deal with her when she finally breaks.”

“We’re working on it.”

“Don’t ask me for help,” snorting as they approached the small starship, Asajj barely spared Anakin a glance.

“We weren’t planning on it.”

“ _Good_.” Pulling away from him, the pale-skinned woman began lurching towards the ship on her own, pausing to take a breath. Turning, she eyed the Dark Jedi for a moment and rolled her eyes hard. “ _Thank you_.”

“Don’t mention it,” giving a dismissive wave of his hand, Anakin waited until she was all the way inside the starship before he turned to Catcher and folded his arms. “ _Now what?_ ”

“Shouldn’t we look for Little Bit and Kenobi?”

“ _Catcher_ ,” Anakin gave the other man an amused look and tried not to smirk too wide. “Please tell me you haven’t blocked yourself off so fully from her that you _can’t_ feel that Asajj was right?”

“Eh?” Blinking, the clone took a moment to focus and then blew out a harsh breath, rubbing a hand over his face with a growl. “ _Dammit Little Bit_ ,”

“Hey—it’s a lot better than the alternative,”

“Yeah, but now I’ve got to re-distract myself again.” Catcher made a face and shook his head. “I’ve been so focused on the idea of her trying to kill that woman that I just cut myself off from her.”

“That isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Cutting yourself off, I mean. It’s… good to take breaks from the bonds on occasion.”

“I’ve learned.” Heaving a sigh, Catcher looked around and then back to Anakin. “What sort of food do you think they serve in that hole-in-the-wall over there?”

“I’m sure they’ll have _something_ we can eat,” chuckling, Anakin jerked his head and turned to start walking. “Come on. At the very least, they’ll serve alcohol.”

~*~*~*~

“ _You’re **teasing** me_,” Iza whined as she shifted on Obi-Wan’s lap, trying to move higher and press herself against his pelvis. He’d stretched out so damn casually in the captain’s chair in the cockpit of her starship, legs parted in that damn dominant stance he liked to take up when they’d visited _clubs_ during the assignment that had brought them together. He refused to let her sit any higher than his thighs as he held tight to her wrists, one of which was pinned at her lower back. He was busy licking the blood from the palm of her other hand, occasionally drawing a finger into his mouth to suck until the skin was clean. He’d taken her over his knee and given her such a wicked damn spanking, too. Everything tingled and ached in the most delightful of ways and now she sat panting and trembling in his lap while she watched him lick her skin clean like a fucking _cat_.

Glittery gold-hued eyes flicked up to look at her and he drew her index finger between his lips, sucking slowly with a quiet _hum_. He kept doing that. He kept _staring_ at her with those pretty eyes of his and didn’t say anything at all. They’d shifted color when he’d bonded her and calmed her outside and they hadn’t gone back since. Iza was sure it was a by-product of filtering so much darkness from her—but she didn’t hate it. He’d shifted into full _Bastard_ mode as well, which she also didn’t hate. It was much better than being ignored and feeling as though she was unloved. But he wouldn’t fucking _touch_ her and it was driving her up a damn wall. Gasping when he nipped the tip of her finger, Iza pouted and leaned forward to press flush against his abdomen, nuzzling her cheek against his chest.

“ _Master Kenobi_ ,”

“Do you think you’ve earned it?” _Oh_ —so he was still capable of speech after all.

“I was only following orders, Master,” she poked her lip out and put a bit more weight on him, hoping maybe she could stir his interest by _discreetly_ rubbing against the bulge at the front of his trousers. When he gave a light twist to the arm he held behind her back, Iza whimpered and lifted off a tiny bit. _Okay_. Scratch that plan.

“They were not _my_ orders— _were they, Iza?_ ”

“No, Master,”

“And what have I said about following anyone else’s orders but _mine?_ ”

“I did not have a choice!” Iza buried her face against him, breathing heavily and letting out a tiny cry when he bit the end of her finger.

“You’ve been a very terrible girl,” he hummed quietly and switched to her middle finger, sucking at it lightly before giving it the same sort of sharp bite. “I don’t think you deserve what you’re asking for.”

“I’ll be good,” she picked her head up and leveled her gaze with him. “I’ll be so good for you, Master Kenobi. Please, _please_ do not leave me this way.”

He didn’t look convinced. He looked quite _bored_ , actually. If not for the fact that he was so damn hard, Iza would’ve thought that he wasn’t interested in the slightest at what she was offering. She wished he’d let go of her fucking arm. It was part of the game and she had the right code words to get him to release her if she _really_ wanted him to, but she didn’t want to break him out of his headspace. He hadn’t hit the point where he scared her just yet. Wasn’t even close. This was still that fun, _playful_ Bastard she loved so damn much. She’d missed him. She’d missed him _a lot._

“ _Master Kenobi_ ,” she tried the cute tactic again, pressing her cheek to his stomach and lifting her hips behind her on his lap. She saw his gaze flick briefly upward, a brow following, and then he was staring back down at her and tucking her other arm behind her to pin her wrist against her back. Before she had a chance to draw in a breath to ask, he brought a hand back and swung down so fast and so hard that she barely had time to register what’d happened until she heard the hearty _smack_ and the ache in her asscheek worsened. She tried _hard_ not to shout in surprise, but a muffled sound came out of her anyway and earned her another hefty swat on the other side. Squeezing her knees against the sides of his legs, Iza damn near smothered herself in the fabric of his tunic as she fought against the whimpers rising in her throat and tried desperately not to squirm.

“ _Breathe_ , my darling,” his hand moved in slow passes over the slowly heating flesh before he reached to lift her chin so she could breathe properly. Locking their gazes, he gave her jaw a firm squeeze and quietly commanded, “ _Breathe_ ,”

The sense of absolute tranquility that washed over her was _astounding_. Iza had never breathed so easily in her life. Even with both arms tucked behind her back and her body curved at such an awkward angle, her lungs seemed to fill completely with each deep intake of air. Smiling, she tipped her head into his touch, never breaking eye contact. Obi-Wan grunted quietly and released her face to stroke his fingers along her cheek and beneath her jaw, a curious sort of look crossing his features.

“Darling?”

“Yes?”

“Would you like to play a game?”

Iza’s whole face brightened at the thought. It had been _so long_ since he’d played a game with her. They hadn’t had the time and he’d continually been so grumpy whenever they returned home from Serenno that he was never in the mood for them anymore. Games with Anakin and Catcher were _delightful_ , but they were not the same as games with Obi-Wan. Nodding enthusiastically, she tipped further into the touch of his hand and parted her lips when he trailed a fingertip over her mouth. This earned her a faint smile that twitched the ends of his mustache upward. He still had not broken eye contact.

“Are you sure you want to agree without knowing the terms?”

“ _Master_ ,” she pouted against his fingertip, trying not to look or sound as pathetic as she felt. She wanted this. She _really_ wanted this. She almost didn’t care _what_ the terms were.

“My darling,” he released her arms from behind her back and encouraged her to settle herself against his chest, maintaining full eye contact the entire time. Iza wasn’t sure he’d even blinked. “You and I are going to take a trip. And when we take this trip, we will play our game. But—” he held his finger up and smiled wider before tapping the end of it against the tip of her nose. “—you _must_ abide by the rules. I will know if you do not.”

“What rules, Master Kenobi?”

“I will allow you the freedom to play with Anakin and Catcher as much as you like for the next week until we leave,” his smile became devious and dark, the look in his pretty golden eyes sharpening to match. “But when we go—you get nothing more. You will be mine to touch and tease and taste as I see fit, and you will give _me_ what I ask for. But you will get no gratification until I’m ready to give it to you.” He still hadn’t blinked. The dryness in her eyes said she had yet to do it too. “What do you think, darling? Shall we try it? See if it doesn’t help maintain your focus?”

“I…” Iza couldn’t really see any reason to object. She’d be allowed a whole week of freedom with Anakin and Catcher beforehand, so it seemed fair enough. Though—she knew how vicious Obi-Wan could be with his teasing when he wanted to be. And she had no idea where they were going on this _trip_ , but she supposed he’d tell her when the time was right. Nodding slowly, she smiled at him and leaned in to kiss his fingertip. “I would like that very much, Master Kenobi.”

“Good girl,” he cupped her chin and pulled her in for a soft kiss, finally breaking eye contact and releasing her from that funny sensation of tranquility. Iza still felt very relaxed and happy, but she no longer felt the need to keep her eyes focused on his at all times. Sighing quietly into his mouth, the brunette gasped and groaned when he dropped his hand to one of her breasts and lightly toyed with her nipple. She tried to follow him when he pulled back from the kiss, poking her bottom lip out and letting out a tiny yelp when he abandoned her breast in favor of giving another good swat to her ass. “ _Darling_ ,”

“Please?” Smoothing her hands along his sides, Iza nestled up snug against his chest and brushed her mouth over his.

“No,” he shook his head and smiled at her gently, gold-hued eyes glimmering in the overhead light. Iza’s face fell and she sagged on him a little. Looking a bit lost, she nodded and started to set her head on his shoulder when he cupped her chin and leveled their gazes again. “ _Iza_ ,”

She was so horribly confused. Yes or no? Was he going to play with her and relieve her of all of her frustration or was he really going to make her wait until they started their game to let her have him? As she stared back at him and that odd feeling of tranquility started seeping back in, she leaned into the touch and silently tried to make sense of his actions.

“I said you could have Anakin and Catcher, darling,” he rubbed his thumb against the curve of her chin and watched her face wither even more. “Please don’t look at me like that.”

“But…” Iza wanted to keep the whimper out of her voice. She really did. “I want _you_.”

“That’s too bad,” he shrugged, looking quite nonchalant for a man whose dick felt like durasteel. “You agreed to the game, darling. You cannot have me.”

“You said I had a week!”

“I said you had a week to freely play with Anakin and Catcher. I did not include myself in that scenario.”

“ _I miss you_ ,” the tears were going to come whether he liked it or not. _Master Kenobi_ was a very different man than Obi-Wan. Tears were not often permitted when they were not purposely prompted. Her eyelids fluttered as she fought to keep eye contact while the tears welled up and made her eyes burn before trickling down her cheeks.

“You just had me, darling,” he moved his hand from her chin and swiped the little trails of saline away with his thumb. “Just a few days ago.”

“ _Master_ , we have not been this way in a long time,” she was going to go blind. Her tears would boil her eyeballs and leave her sightless.

“Stop crying.”

She tried. Iza steeled herself as hard as she could and held her breath, staring up at him with unblinking eyes that continued to fill with more tears. He blurred for a half second and then burst back into clarity when the bubble broke and cascaded down her face in hot rivulets. She pinched her mouth so tight that her lips went numb and she felt herself starting to shake with the fear that she would not be able to obey him. She _wanted_ to. She wanted so badly to do as he asked. She just could not stand the idea that he would not have her while he was still in such a pleasant mood.

“ _Breathe_ ,”

Iza pulled in deep, shaky lungfuls and continued to try and focus on _not_ crying. It only seemed to make her cry _more_ and make her panic about it. Finally, Obi-Wan let out a sigh and tutted, palming the side of her face before he leaned down and stared her dead straight in the eye.

“You may have me _one_ more time,” he held his other hand up with a single finger extended to further solidify this. “But after that, you will _wait_ , is that clear?”

“Yes Master Kenobi,” she nodded, swallowing hard. “I’m sorry.”

“Darling,” his features softened considerably and he sighed again, pressing his lips together before bowing his head to rest it against hers. “Please relax. Take a few moments and settle down. You will not be punished for your tears.”

“Yes sir,” Iza was almost grateful when he broke eye contact again so she could shut hers. She exhaled shakily when he kissed the spot between her brows and nestled in closer as he ran a soothing palm along her back. She really had missed him. Things felt so different with all of the fog and whispers in her head. She did not know what he’d done to quiet them or to clear it away, but she was grateful. She really hoped he’d give her a chance to express that gratitude, and to fully apologize for her bratty behavior.

“I love you, darling,” he kissed her temple and leaned back with a faint smile, those pretty golden eyes of his shining bright.

“I love _you_ ,” her chest felt so full and warm. She wasn’t nearly as cold anymore. She could focus her thoughts on a singular track and not get lost as easily. She owed him. She owed him _a lot_.

“Come, darling,” giving her a nudge to move her off of his lap, Obi-Wan got to his feet behind her and gestured towards the back of the starship. “We must make the most of our time before the others come _looking_ for us.”


	5. Love Me Mercilessly

It took about a day and a half before things seemed to fall back into a sense of _normalcy_ at the Starscape compound. Anakin and Catcher had been instructed _not_ to bring up Iza’s misdeed with Asajj, nor was anyone allowed to make a comment about the fact that Obi-Wan’s eyes seemed to have gotten stuck in that golden hue. The only one who’d really even noticed in the first place had been Catcher, but he’d been quickly silenced by Iza when he attempted to ask her what the hell was going on. After that, things _mostly_ appeared to return to the way they’d been before Iza’s lessons had even started. She seemed more playful and like _herself_ than she’d been in months. It was a welcomed change, for sure.

“ _Jate vaar'tur_ ,” Catcher yawned a little as he came into the kitchen to find Iza leaning on the counter, poring over a datapad as she sipped a mug of caf and absently nibbled at some array of previously frozen breakfast food.

“Mando’a sounds _beautiful_ coming out of your mouth,” she turned her head to look at him and smile, chin propped in her hand. “ _Jate vaar’tur_ , my love,”

“It should, all things considered.” He grinned and came over to kiss the side of her head. Leaning against her, he settled his chin on her shoulder and eyed the ‘pad. “What are we reading now?”

“Old tactical journal,” offering him the plate of food, Iza took a quick sip of caf and sighed quietly. “I’m honestly just going over how we used to communicate with each other in the notes without anyone realizing it.”

“Oh— _one of those_ journals,” he leaned on her a little more and hummed, lightly running his fingers along the small of her back. “I saw you still have the _red_ one.”

“I can’t believe we got away with writing that filth to each other,” laughing, the brunette shot him a look. “I can’t believe we got away with half the things we did on Republic communication lines.”

“I can,” he moved away from her to pour himself a mug, helping himself to one of the pastries set out on the counter. He typically didn’t enjoy sweets in the morning, but the inland shop these had come from made the best damn sweesonberry rolls he’d ever had. Propping his hip on the edge of the counter, he tipped his head to admire her from behind for a moment before continuing. “The GAR was preoccupied with the war and keeping tabs on things like _treason_ and _inside men_. The only people who cared about what went on were the Jedi.”

“It was the rules, Catch,” turning to face him, Iza sighed and raised an eyebrow. “You better not eat all of those. Obi-Wan will throw a fit.”

“I can have _one_ , Little Bit,”

“If he asks, tell him _I’m_ the one who ate it,” she snorted and picked up one of the protato squares from her plate. “He won’t get as fussy if he thinks it was me.”

“If he didn’t want anyone else to eat them, he shouldn’t leave them on the counter.”

“Mm,” taking a bite of the square, Iza tried not to purse her lips as she chewed. “He would not mind so much if you _asked_ first, my love.”

“He’s not here— _is he?_ ”

“No,” she gave a sad little smile and sighed, popping the rest of the square into her mouth. “He went inland for some things for our _trip_. Which he still won’t tell me _anything_ about.”

“So you have no idea where he’s taking you or what you’re doing?” Catcher frowned as he bit into his pastry. “Bit ominous, eh?”

“ _Catcher_ ,” scoffing out a laugh, Iza shook her head at him. “I think it has to do with the assignment. He’s probably leaving the details to the last minute so I won’t say anything to Anakin. He seems very… uneasy about telling him anything about it.”

“ _That’s_ even more ominous, Little Bit.”

“You worry too much,” reaching out, Iza broke a corner off of the pastry in his hand and grinned at the look on his face when she stuck it in her mouth. “Oh—are you not sharing?”

“When I potentially have to fight Kenobi over it— _no I am not_.”

Iza pouted and let out a quiet huff. Turning away from him, she went back to scrolling through her datapad, ignoring him when he tutted and sighed.

“ _Little Bit_ ,” he set the pastry down on the counter and moved up behind her, setting his hands on her hips.

“You’re _mean_ ,” she grumbled back, taking a sip of her caf. “I share _all_ my food with you.”

“I know you do, sweetheart,” stroking his fingers down to her thighs, he found the hem of the oversized tunic she wore and pulled it up a fraction to brush lightly at her skin. Grinning to himself when he felt her jump at the touch, Catcher leaned further into her and settled his chin on her shoulder once more. “Now _what_ have you found that has you reacting this way, eh?”

“ _Nothing_ ,” she scrolled down the screen and took another sip, shifting underneath him to fit her ass against his pelvis. Behind her, Catcher growled softly in her ear and skimmed his fingertips around to the insides of her thighs, making them tense for a moment before she relaxed again.

“ _Nothing_ , Little Bit?” Peering at the screen, Catcher flicked his eyes over the notes she was reading and quirked a brow as a slow smirk started at the corner of his lips. To anyone else, it probably looked like nonsense being passed between General and Commander. They’d gotten used to using their own little _language_ to discuss more private, _intimate_ things when they were under surveillance. Anyone who’d read over these notes probably had no idea that Iza had been praising him for keeping his head between her thighs for over an hour. _Thanks for the pep talk_ his left choob. Humming quietly while he watched her continue to scroll through their exchange, Catcher turned his head and nipped at the edge of her ear. His fingers pawed at the insides of her thighs until he heard her breathing pattern change and felt her fighting the urge to squeeze her legs together. Bowing his head, he dropped kisses to her neck and arched his hips into her. “ _Little Bit_ ,”

“I’m reading, Catch,” she sounded so nonchalant for a woman who couldn’t keep her breathing steady. “You’d better eat the rest of that pastry before Obi-Wan gets home. You know how he is about being _wasteful_.”

“I won’t waste it,” he wouldn’t immediately move to eat it, either. Biting at the dip in her neck, he dragged his fingers higher and let out a grunt when she reached down and batted at them. “ _Iza_ ,”

“ _Reading_.” She glanced at him over her shoulder and made a face. “Finish your breakfast.”

He stared back at her for a long moment, eyes searching her face for any signs that she was just being _playful_ and not actually ordering him to eat the stupid pastry. When he couldn’t manage to read her at all, Catcher let out a quiet huff and backed off. _Fine_. He **would** eat the stupid pastry. He wouldn’t save her the last few bites of it, either. _Little brat._ Parking himself against the opposite counter again, he picked up the abandoned sweesonberry roll and bit into it aggressively, scowling down at the floor. He knew he probably shouldn’t be as annoyed as he was. He knew Little Bit had been weird about sex lately and he could respect her boundaries just as well as the other two in the house. But she’d had no problem jumping him in the shower—or in the hangar when he’d been in the middle of a game of Sabacc with the Stars. He didn’t think this had anything to do with her on-again, off-again sex drive.

Looking up when he caught sight of movement in his peripherals, Catcher raised an eyebrow as he watched the brunette shift around in front of him. Oh—he could see the way she kept squeezing her thighs together. He could also see that she’d started chewing at one of her knuckles while she read whatever it was that was in front of her now. His brow climbed higher when she let out a heavy breath and shifted her stance, hips rocking lightly to one side as she continued pressing her legs together tightly. Stuffing the rest of the pastry into his mouth, the clone chased it with a good mouthful of caf before folding his arms over his chest and tilting his head to watch her.

“I remember the first time I ever gave you a good _pep talk_.”

“What?” She paused, looking over her shoulder. Her cheeks were a little flushed and she looked confused for half a second before she blew out a breath and turned away again. “ _Catcher_ ,”

“You had no idea what to do with yourself,” grinning, he pushed away from the counter and moved closer, hooking a finger in the hem of the tunic she wore to lift it and take a peek underneath. He snickered when she batted at his hand, letting go. “I don’t think you even knew what to do with _me_.”

“The Jedi don’t exactly cover oral sex in the _Talk_ , Catch,” she muttered, going for her mug. Behind her, Catcher hummed and moved to kneel on the tile before crawling closer. Reaching his hands out, he slid them up her legs and grinned wider when she twisted to look down at him. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged and peppered a few kisses to the back of one of her thighs. “Keep reading.”

“I will when you tell me what you’re doing.”

“ _Pep talk_.” Nipping one of her calves, Catcher wormed his fingers between her thighs, urging her to separate them. It took a fair bit of nudging and a few more drags of his teeth, but eventually Iza relented and shifted her stance again.

“You’re supposed to be finishing your breakfast,” the brunette let out a soft noise of surprise when his fingers slid higher and continued to push her legs apart.

“ _I did_.” Tucking his head between her legs, the clone _hummed_ again and settled his cheek against the inside of one. “Is it a _no?_ ”

“Did you hear me say _no?_ ” Leaning back from the edge of the counter to look down at him, Iza pulled the hem of her tunic back so she could actually see his face. “You know the rules, Catch. _Ne’tra_ means _no_.”

“Do _you_ remember that pep talk, Little Bit?” He smiled up at her, trailing a fingertip slowly along the soft skin behind her knee.

“That _tickles_ ,” reaching down to swat him away, Iza pursed her lips and went back to leaning on the edge of the counter. “I think so. Was that the time I broke your nose?”

“ _No_ —that pep talk happened at 79’s when you took too many of the Starshine shots.” He couldn’t help scoffing at the memory. “ _Think_ , Little Bit.”

“You’re making it difficult to do that,”

“I could always stop,”

“ _You better not_.”

He laughed outright, unable to help himself. Turning his head, he kissed the spot where his cheek had been resting and gently suctioned his lips against it, fully intending to leave a mark on her skin. Chuckling as he grazed his teeth over the spot, he leaned back enough to speak and cast a quick glance upward.

“You couldn’t sleep. You _complained_ that you were tired of me getting you off with my fingers. As if we had much of a choice back then.” Trailing his mouth higher up the inside of her thigh, Catcher propped his back against the cabinet and gave a little tug to her legs to encourage her to lower her hips a bit. “I admit it was probably _stupid_ of me to introduce you to it while we were in such close proximity to everyone in the squad—but _fuck_. I’ll never forget the sound you made when I put my mouth on you.”

“Bet you can’t make me do it again.”

“Oh— _I’ve tried,_ ” chuckling, the clone nipped at the spot he’d been marking. “You get close sometimes, but it’s never _just right_.”

“Catcher?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“ _Finish your breakfast._ ”

Catcher gave a soft, savage growl in response, tipping his head up to press his mouth to the heat between her thighs. The first hot swipe of his tongue had him groaning low and grasping her hips beneath the fabric of her tunic, pulling her down closer to his mouth. _Wet_. Wet and hot and sweet— _all for him_. He knew it, too. That damn journal had really kicked her into gear this morning. She’d mentioned before that Anakin had been the one to rescue the datapads from her room at the Temple. _Thank you, Skywalker_. Following with more slow, deep passes that made the brunette shiver and wriggle those pretty hips of hers, Catcher happily settled in to working her over while she continued reading. He listened closely to every little gasp and whimper that left her, noting that she seemed to be trying to stay quiet. _Interesting_. He knew which buttons to push in order to make her holler and he was damn tempted to start pushing them. But _fuck_ —something about the way she smothered the sounds against her knuckles while shamelessly rocking into the passes of his tongue reminded him of how things used to be. Back when they had to hide from everyone and things seemed just a _little_ more exhilarating because of it. The sex was still fucking _fantastic_. He’d never deny that. But he had to admit that he missed the rush of the secrecy at times.

“Catch,” her hand came down to nudge his head back further, directing his attention to her clit. Closing his mouth over it with a soft hum, he gave a greedy suck and damn near grinned when Iza’s knees shook and she dropped her head against her arm to stifle the cry that followed.

“Too much?” He teased, slowly sliding his tongue over the sensitive little nub.

“When is it ever _too much?_ ” He could practically hear the eye roll in her tone. “More, Catch. _More_.”

Another one of those deep growls rumbled in his throat as he obeyed the command, drawing her clit back into his mouth to suck slowly. He had to admit—he’d also missed _this_. He missed her behaving like the demanding, insatiable little nightmare he knew her to be. Whatever Kenobi had done during the trip back from Nal Hutta, he was going to have to remember to thank him for. His Little Bit felt more like herself to him than she had in _months_. He owed that man an entire box of those stupid sweesonberry rolls. Digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her hips to keep her from wriggling away, Catcher had just started in with light nibbling when he felt her tense above him and straighten some.

“Morning sweetness,”

_Fucking Skywalker._

“Morning _cyar’ika_ ,” he hated the way she called him that. _Hated it_. Grumbling between her thighs, Catcher sucked harder and dragged his tongue in hard sweeps against her clit, grinning inwardly when her hips jumped and she let out a quick rush of breath.

“What are you doing?” Anakin sleepily ran a hand through his hair while gesturing at the brunette with the other. He was used to her reading in strange areas of the house, but the kitchen was a new one. “Did you get the sweesonberry things Obi-Wan brought for you?”

_This little…_

“Yep,” Iza tried desperately to keep a straight face when Catcher’s tongue slid deep inside of her, sweeping against spots that very nearly had her eyes rolling back in her head. “I shared one with Catch. He loves the damn things.”

“Where is he? I swear I heard him earlier.”

“Around,” shrugging nonchalantly, Iza glanced back at the datapad and tried not to bite too deeply into her bottom lip. She was getting dangerously close to coming and the soft flutters of the clone’s tongue against her clit were making it hard to keep still. “Might be in the sho— _fuck—_ shower.”

“Are you… okay, sweetness?” Anakin eyed her and came closer, leaning up on the opposite side of the counter. “You’re looking a bit flushed.”

“M’fine,” she nodded, pressing her knuckles to her mouth.

“Iza?” The younger man looked damn concerned, blue eyes flicking over her face like he was worried she might be sick all over the counter at any second.

“I’m— ** _fuck_** _Catcher, don’t stop_ ,” leaning away from the counter, Iza tunneled her fingers into Catcher’s hair and completely ignored the way Anakin stared at her as she rolled her hips against the clone’s mouth. Between her thighs, Catcher gave an almost possessive snarl and clamped his hands down over her hips to hold her in place as he looked up at her and sucked harder until she jerked and shouted something unintelligible. Folding forward, Iza buried her face against her arms on the countertop and hollered into them, working her hips as much as Catcher’s hold would allow. When he continued to drag his tongue against her while she trembled and whimpered, the brunette wriggled and squirmed, giving the top of his head a gentle swat. “Too much. _Too much_.”

Catcher gave one more defiant lick before crawling out from underneath her, getting to his feet and eyeing Anakin for a moment before he dragged the back of his wrist across his chin.

“Morning,”

“Morning,” Anakin murmured dumbly, eyes shifting to Iza. The brunette was still slumped over the counter, trying to catch her breath. She let out a soft noise when the clone gently patted her backside and leaned over to give her ear a kiss before he turned to help himself to another sweesonberry roll. “You all right, sweetness?”

“Told you,” picking her head up, Iza grinned at Anakin lazily and straightened. “I’m _fine_ , _cyar’ika_ ,”

“Should I leave the two of you alone?”

“Would you like to play with us?”

Behind her, Catcher choked on the bite of pastry he’d just taken, prompting the two Dark Jedi to turn their attention to him. Iza immediately offered him what was left in her mug, watching him suck it down while he stared at her with wide eyes.

“ _Little Bit_ ,” his voice was rough and he looked a bit unsure. Eyeing him, Iza moved closer and nestled up against his side.

“You can say _no_ , Catch. You know I won’t make you.”

“I don’t want…” He hesitated, frustration clouding his features. “You know I’m not…”

“You don’t have to touch him, either,” running a fingertip along his jaw, Iza smiled softly. “I will not pressure you, my love. But we did discuss this before, remember? I’ve already laid out how it would go.”

Looking between Iza and Anakin, Catcher seemed to hesitate even more. When his hazel-hued brown eyes fixed back on the brunette beside him, he grunted and bowed to knock his head against hers affectionately.

“Give me a few minutes to think about it, eh?”

“Take all the time you want,” smiling, Iza returned the soft headbutt and reached behind him to grab one of the pastries from the box, gesturing to Anakin. “Cigarette.”

“ _You better rinse your mouth out_.” Catcher muttered from behind her as she started walking off.

“I _will_ ,” rolling her eyes, the brunette took a bite of the roll and snorted. With Anakin at her heels, she led the way through the bedroom they shared with Obi-Wan, snagging the packet of cigarettes from the dresser on her way out to the balcony. Once on the other side of the slider, she smiled at him and reached to wrap her arms around his neck. “ _Hi_ , my sweet _cyar’ika_ ,”

“Morning,” he repeated, smiling faintly. Leaning in, Anakin dropped a kiss to the end of her nose. “You could have just told me what Catcher was up to, you know.”

“Mm,” kissing his chin with a nod, Iza pulled back to tap two cigarettes from the packet and get them both lit, handing one off to him with a light shrug. “It was more fun to see the look on your face when you realized what was happening.”

“I was _worried_ , Iza,” laughing, the younger man shook his head at her. “You looked so flustered and out of it. With the way things have been, can you blame me?”

“We share a _bond_ , Anakin,” she eyed him a little and gave a half smile. “I would have thought you’d use it.”

“I _just_ got out of bed, sweetness,” smiling around the filter between his lips, Anakin leaned up against the railing. “With everything as lax as it is these days, I don’t _immediately_ reach into the Force like I did when we lived at the Temple.”

“Fair,” humming, Iza took up post beside him and bit into the pastry in her hand, looking out at the stretch of beach in front of them. Oh, she knew Anakin was watching with an expectant—but patient—look on his face. She was just more interested in her post-orgasm snack and the sight of the ocean for the moment.

“Are we not going to talk about what you just offered to me?”

 _Or_ —he could stop being patient and cut right to the chase. Shifting her gaze to the corners of her eyes, Iza raised an eyebrow and stuffed the rest of the roll into her mouth, sucking her fingers.

“It’s only an _idea_ until Catcher makes it an offer,” chewing and swallowing, she took a heavy drag of her cigarette and sighed. “Really didn’t think he’d be as hesitant, honestly. That man doesn’t pass up a chance to fuck me like he owns me.” A tiny smile played at the corners of her lips. “I would’ve thought he’d want to put on a nice big show and everything.”

“Oh, so you’re trying to get us to rough you up again, is that it?” Chuckling, Anakin shook his head and gave her shoulder a nudge with his. “You want us to do some kind of kinky powerplay thing over you?”

“ _Listen_ —the two of you are so fucking possessive it’s not even funny. I wanna know what that looks like when you’re alone together in a room with me, naked and horny.”

“What the hell did Obi-Wan do to you?” Anakin joked, giving her a look as he puffed his cigarette. “You’ve been so…” he couldn’t think of a word. He just waved his hand over her instead. “ _This_.”

“That’s not Obi-Wan’s fault,” Iza said matter-of-factly. “One, I’ve always been like this. _Two_ —” turning, Iza nudged him until he was facing her and brought a hand up to trace a fingertip along where his sleeping trousers hung low on his hips. “—I _saw_ the way you looked at me when I came out of that bar, _cyar’ika_. I felt the shift in you. You wanted me then but you couldn’t have me. You had to play the _good boy_.”

“Don’t do that, sweetness,” the taller man warned, eyeing her up and down as his breathing deepened. “You really don’t want to do that.”

“ _But I **do**_ ,” her eyes were lightening. Anakin wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing anymore. Obi-Wan’s had been stuck gold for days now and he was just fine. It happened sometimes. As the brunette stroked the line between his navel and where the band of his trousers sat, she pouted at him and leaned in to press kisses to his bare chest. “I know how much you hate her, _cyar’ika_. I know you saw all that blood and _hoped_ you’d find a corpse when you went into the bar.” Bright amber eyes flicked up to look at him, the smile on her lips vicious. “I _know_ she isn’t dead, Anakin,”

His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. He was caught in a strange limbo between heavy lust and anxiety over the idea that Iza would continue her mission to kill the other woman. Maybe not today—but soon. He wasn’t sure if that anxiety was because he was afraid to let her leave, or what the assassination would do to _her_ when she regained clarity again. He wasn’t sure of anything right now. _Fuck_ , he really wanted her to use a heavier hand. Maybe move her touch lower. She was torturing him with these soft strokes.

“ _Cyar’ika_ ,”

“Mm?”

“Did you save her so we could do it _together?_ ” The fingertip became a palm that smoothed slowly along the surface of his belly and lower over the front of his trousers. “Did you want to be part of the fun, my love?”

“ _Iza_ ,” he blew out a harsh breath and set his jaw as he gazed down at her, finding himself unable to look away. When she drew her bottom lip between her teeth and gave his cock a firm squeeze, he growled quietly and leaned down to press his forehead into hers, nodding. “ _Yes_. Yes, I want to.”

“You want to watch me rip her apart, don’t you _cyar’ika?_ ” Grinning lazily, Iza tipped her head up enough to give a lick to his bottom lip. “Will you hold her down for me? Will you hold her down while I make her _scream_ and _beg_ for mercy, my sweet love?”

“ _Yes_ ,” his answer was little more than a breathless growl as he continued nodding, eyes never leaving hers.

“Would you like a turn with her?”

Anakin’s eyes lit up, the blue brightening to the same shimmering gold like someone had lit a fire behind the irises. Pitching the still-burning cigarette he held over the railing, he slung his arm around Iza and drew her in close, a feral smile spreading across his lips.

“ ** _Yes_** _._ ”

Iza followed suit by flicking her cigarette away, giving him another good squeeze as she curled her other hand around the back of his neck. Grazing her teeth over his chin, she grinned wildly and pressed up flush against his side.

“When I have returned from my trip with Obi-Wan,” she nosed at his cheek and tugged hard at the hair at the back of his head. “ _We_ will take our own trip. I _know_ you know where she went, _cyar’ika_.”

“Dathomir,” he murmured, digging his fingers into the flesh of her hip. “I’m not sure how long she’ll remain there.”

“We will find her,” Iza purred, ghosting her lips across his and pulling back when he attempted to seal his mouth over them. “We will find her and we will make her _suffer_. **_Together_**.”

“Together,” Anakin repeated with a slow nod, bringing his other hand up to grasp her chin and hold her in place. He watched as she drew in a sharp breath and leaned into the touch, that predatory grin returning to his lips. “Something you want, sweetness?”

“Harder,” she dragged her nails noisily over the thin layer of fabric covering his erection and leaned up to bite his bottom lip. “You don’t fool me with your _softness_ , Anakin.”

“I’ll get yelled at if I leave bruises on your face,” the younger man murmured, unable to keep from rocking his hips into her touch.

“I said— _harder_ ,” the fingers tangled in his hair gave a rough pull and Anakin hissed through his teeth, growling down at her as he tightened his grip on her chin. In turn, Iza let out a pleased little sound, dragging the flat of her palm against his cock. “ _Good boy_ ,”

“The two of you have already started, eh?”

Turning, Anakin and Iza found Catcher leaning casually against the frame of the slider, arms folded and one brow cocked high on his forehead. Iza watched his hazel-hued eyes flick between the two of them and settle where Anakin’s hand was currently placed. Sucking his teeth with a soft _tut_ , Catcher shook his head.

“You’d do well to move that hand back about an inch or so. Won’t bruise so easily.” The clone gestured to the other man’s hand. Anakin blinked at him for a minute, visibly shaken that he was being given _pointers_. Then, he slid his hand further along Iza’s jawline and caught her closer to the jowls, squeezing.

“ _Cyar’ika_ ,” Iza gasped a little, getting a wide grin in return.

“You know the whole compound can see the two of you from here, right?” Coming further out onto the balcony, Catcher waved a hand around. “ _Everyone_ has seen what you get up to out here.”

“That’s kind of the point, Catch,” Iza playfully made a face at him and tilted her head. “Have you made your decision, my love?”

“Might have,” he eyed her, taking in the sight of her pressed up against Anakin with her fingers tangled in his hair and her hand grasping his cock through his sleeping trousers. A soft snort left him and he shifted his gaze to Anakin again. “What did she want?”

“ _Pardon?_ ”

Catcher briefly gestured to where Iza’s hand was settled. Glancing down, Anakin blinked and let out a dry laugh before clearing his throat.

“It’s—uh—a little obvious, isn’t it?”

“No.” Shaking his head, the clone crossed his arms again and snorted. “I know this tactic _very well_ ,” accusing hazel eyes moved back to Iza. “ _Little Bit_ , what are you up to?”

“ _Nothing_.” Iza would have planted her chin against Anakin’s shoulder if he didn’t have his hand clamped down on her jaw. Instead, she nestled deeper into his hold and shot an innocent look in Catcher’s direction, poking her bottom lip out in a soft pout. “You don’t trust me anymore, Catch.”

“I don’t trust you when you’ve got your hands _full_ like this, sweetheart,”

“You trust me when it’s _you_ my hands are full of.”

Catcher grunted, giving her a hard look. In turn, Iza tilted her head at him as much as she could and dropped her hand from Anakin’s hair, reaching out to brush her fingers over one of Catcher’s arms.

“ _Catcher_ ,”

“Oh— _don’t you dare_ ,” he growled back, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t do it, Little Bit,”

Pulling out of Anakin’s grasp entirely, the brunette leaned against the clone and peppered tiny kisses across his shoulder, looking up at him from beneath her lashes.

“ _Catch_ ,”

“You’re a fucking _nightmare_.”

“Am I?” Lolling her head against his arm, Iza nuzzled at his bicep and slid her arms around his waist, fighting off a grin when he growled down at her again.

“ _I swear, Little Bit_ ,”

“Catcher?”

“ _No_.” He shook his head at her, though the look in his eye didn’t quite match the gruffness of his voice. Whining up at him, the brunette gave a soft huff and let her arms fall back at her sides. The two just stared at one another for a long moment in silence, Iza pouting while Catcher glared. And then, before Anakin could open his mouth to ask, the clone gave a solid bump of his shoulder into the brunette. The other man started to take a step forward in outrage, but Iza got there first and countered with a hard shove of her chest against Catcher’s. The two twisted to properly face each other, eyes locked and narrowed.

“You know you can’t take me, Catch,” Iza’s brow twitched up lightly as a smile spread across her lips. “I’m _stronger_ than you.”

“Nah sweetheart,” he shook his head and lifted his hands to wiggle his fingers at her. “You’ve got little _devil_ powers. No body. No muscle.”

“I’ve got more _body_ than you, Commander,” the brunette growled, shouldering into his chest. “You’re all _mouth_ ,”

“Yeah? You think so, Little Bit?” He checked her with a hard crash of his chest against hers in return. Behind them, Anakin wasn’t sure if he ought to be worried or not. The air around them didn’t _feel_ particularly hostile, _and_ this had been quite sudden. Was it some sort of a game?

“ _I know so_.” Reaching for Catcher’s hands, Iza locked her fingers with his and started pushing him back into the bedroom with a yell. The clone shoved back, broad chest colliding with hers hard enough to make her briefly lose footing. Shaking it off, the brunette pushed into him again, throwing all of her weight forward to try and knock him off his feet.

“You’ve gotta do better than that, Little Bit,” Catcher taunted, bracing his feet to properly anchor himself. “Your cute little attempts at _pushing_ aren’t working.”

“Gimme a kiss, Catch,” she grinned up at him through the hair that had fallen into her eyes and the clone snorted, dropping his head down and grunting when she cracked her forehead straight into the center of his. Despite the _awful_ sound that followed the collision, the brunette laughed and bit playfully at Catcher’s chin, tapping her toes against the back of his heel to sweep his leg out from beneath him and dump him onto the bed. Grinning gleefully, she crawled on top of him and sighed, “ _Nar dralshy'a_ , Catcher,”

A heavy sound rushed out of the clone and he was quick to roll her beneath him, pinning her with her arms high above her head. As they both lay chest to chest panting in each other’s faces, he waited to see if she’d make another move. When she simply wriggled and grumbled at him, he grinned.

“ _Ni parjir!_ ”

“Are you sure?” Iza squeezed his hands and wound her legs around his waist, fitting herself up nice and tight against his pelvis. “I think _I_ just won, Catch,”

“I don’t… want to interrupt…” Both heads turned to find Anakin standing awkwardly just inside of the slider. “But—uh—are you… okay?”

“We’re fine _cyar’ika_ ,” Iza flashed a bright grin and pretended not to feel the growl rumbling in Catcher’s chest. “Foreplay. We haven’t done this in a while. His room is a little _small_.”

“Not small,” Catcher grumbled, dipping his head to find a spot on her neck and _bite_. “Cluttered. With all of _your_ things.”

“Fussy, _fussy_ ,” poking her tongue between her teeth, Iza gave his sides a hard squeeze and snickered when he grunted at her. “Is this your way of telling me you want to play with us, Catch?”

“Oh, I’ll play,” shaking one hand free, the clone grasped her jaw in the same manner Anakin had, eliciting a soft squeal of joy from the brunette. “But I won’t play _nice_.”

“You know the rules, right?” Anakin asked tentatively, moving closer to the bed.

“He knows all of the safe words, Anakin,” shifting her gaze to look over at the younger man, Iza’s wicked look softened and she smiled reassuringly. “We’ve been playing games without them for a long time. But he’ll be mindful. He’s good at that.”

“Is Kenobi going to throw a fit if we make a mess here, Little Bit?” Catcher asked, raising a brow when Iza looked back at him. For a moment, she seemed to contemplate the question and then looked over at Anakin again.

“ _Will he?_ ”

“You know he will, sweetness,” laughing, he crossed his arms and watched her frown.

“Catcher’s bed isn’t big enough.”

“There’s always the living room.”

“I don’t _want_ to fuck in the living room, Anakin,” huffing, Iza pouted. “Can we just… change the sheets?”

“Do you _really_ want to deal with him when he gets home and finds out you’ve pulled Catcher into our bed?”

Iza seemed to think about it for a long moment before thumping her head against the mattress in frustration. Growling, she looked up at Catcher and poked her bottom lip out.

“What’s this for, eh?” The hand holding her jaw released her to give a tap to her bottom lip. “Why are you pouting?”

“Not enough room for three in _your_ bed,” she mumbled, nipping the end of his finger.

“Why do you need a bed?”

“Because I know I’ll be bruised enough by the end of the day between the two of you. I’d like to at least be _comfortable._ ”

“The bed should be fine, Little Bit,” he eyed her a moment, tilting his head. “It’s no smaller than the one the three of you shared at the hotel on Pohrell.”

Looking up at him, Iza shook her other hand free and reached to comb her fingers into his hair. At first, Catcher was sure she was going to start tugging on it to try and goad him into getting what she wanted. But she just kept her eyes level with his and lightly twisted her fingers in the curls, occasionally rubbing at his scalp or the back of his neck. He became _very_ aware of the way she kept squeezing him with her thighs, too. When she tipped her head up and brushed her mouth against his chin, he had to fight back a smile. He knew this tactic. He knew this tactic about as well as all of her _other_ little tactics. It didn’t stop him from letting out a soft rumble when she kissed him, or keep him from setting more of his weight onto her when she brushed her thumb against that sweet spot behind his ear.

“Are you sure you want to anger him, sweetheart?” He asked gently in between kisses, watching the way her expression changed. Iza looked contemplative for a good solid minute, brows twitching together as a faraway look of sadness crept into her eyes. Catcher didn’t want that. He didn’t want her upset. Bowing his head, he nuzzled at her jaw and kissed her neck, hoping to pull her back before she really got upset.

“Your room,” she murmured quietly, squeezing her fingers around the ends of his hair. Her eyes flicked to Anakin as if to ask if he was okay with that idea and the younger man smiled easily and nodded. Turning to look back at Catcher, she traced the fingers of her free hand along his jaw. “You need to get off of me.”

“ _Do I,_ sweetheart?” Catcher grinned slowly and leaned into the touch. “You’re very soft and warm. I’m quite comfortable.”

Eyeing him a moment, Iza wrapped her legs around his waist and gave a hard squeeze, making him growl deeply and nip her chin.

“You gonna pop my ribs again, Little Bit?” He taunted, raising a brow as he poked his tongue into his cheek. “You know you don’t get anything from me if you do that, right?”

“ _Up, Catcher_ ,” Iza squeezed again, hard enough to make him grunt.

“Vicious,” he tutted and dropped a kiss to her lips before attempting to move off of her. When she kept her legs locked around him, he glanced down and then back up at her again. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” loosening her hold, Iza lifted a leg and brushed her calf against his cheek with a smile. “Next time, it’ll be your head.”

“ _Don’t tease._ ”

“Who’s teasing?”

“ _Little Bit_ ,” Catcher looked like he might casually _forget_ the fact that Obi-Wan would be furious when he got home to find him in this bed if Iza didn’t quit taunting him. But the brunette only rolled away with a giggle and crawled off the other side of the mattress. Eyeing them both, she pulled up the hem of her tunic like she might start taking it off and began walking out of the room.

“You two better play nice with each other,” she warned, grinning to herself when she heard footsteps following after her. “I don’t mind being roughed up but the minute the two of you start getting _bitchy_ with one another, I’m calling it.”

“Pretty sure we’ll be fine, sweetness,” Anakin spared a glance at Catcher, who looked back at him and nodded.

“Yeah, no need to make threats like that, Little Bit,”

“I will make as many threats as I want,” pausing outside of Catcher’s bedroom, Iza shot him a look. “Neither of you can do a damn thing about it.”

Again, the two glanced at each other and then back at her.

“ _Wanna bet?_ ”

~*~*~*~

“You good, Little Bit?” Catcher cupped Iza’s flushed face between his hands and watched her turn lazy, glassy eyes towards him. For a moment, she looked as though she didn’t quite know how to process the question. Maybe that had something to do with how mindless she’d become as she was swapped between Anakin and the clone without warning and without mercy. The taller of the two was taking _his turn_ now, leather clad fingers buried deep inside of her, fucking her almost ruthlessly as he gave the softest little passes of his tongue against her clit. The contrast of the two sensations was strong and drugging and Iza could hardly breathe, let alone _speak_.

“ _Cin_ ,” she mumbled, swearing and dropping her head back on Catcher’s shoulder as her thighs tensed and threatened to close over Anakin’s head. Weakly, she brought a hand up and tapped her neck, shooting the clone a look. Catcher hesitated.

“You’re already pretty winded, sweetheart,” he’d happily tangle his fingers in her sweat-soaked hair and give _that_ a good pull, though. At first, she seemed pleased with it. She squealed and arched away from his chest, dragging her feet along Anakin’s shoulders while the younger man chuckled against her flesh. But then she was tapping her throat again and letting out soft, needy whines. Catcher was torn. “Little Bit, I don’t know,”

“Come here, sweetness,” there was no hesitation at all from Anakin as he stretched his free hand up and clamped his fingers around her neck, giving a hard squeeze that elicited another one of those elated squeals from the brunette. He was careful, Catcher noticed, but Iza’s breathing was still too damn erratic for _him_ to be comfortable with this.

“Ease off,” the clone warned, watching the other man pick his head up to look at him. At first, he was damn sure Anakin was going to argue, or at least say something nasty. But the Dark Jedi shifted his gaze from Catcher to Iza and loosened his hold, drawing a soft whine from the brunette.

“ _Cin_ , _cyar’ika, cin!_ ”

“I will stop completely, Iza,” he warned, grunting when she thumped a frustrated foot against his back. “ _Iza_ ,”

“ _Ne’tra_ ,”

“ _Sweetness_ ,”

“I said— _ne’tra_.” Scowling down at him as much as she could, Iza breathed heavily and whimpered as Anakin withdrew his fingers and backed off. The two stared at one another for a long, silent moment before he tutted and shook his head.

“ _Really_ , sweetness?” The younger man raised an eyebrow. “Because we don’t want you to pass out?”

“If I wanted to be fucked _gently_ , I would ask to be fucked _gently_.” Her eyes were still glassy and unfocused but Iza’s tone was cold and firm. “You two were doing _so well_. What the _fuck?_ ”

“Little Bit,” Catcher hooked his finger beneath her chin to turn her head so she’d look at him. “We’re happy to give you what you want, but you have limits. _You know this_.”

“I was _fine_ ,” she insisted.

“Were you? Because you looked like you were barely hanging on.”

“As if I’ve never blacked out during sex before?” Iza scoffed and shook her head. “It _happens_ Catch. I’m fine. If the two of you want something _soft_ , you can fuck each other. I’m gonna go take a shower.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” looping his arms around her waist, Catcher frowned hard and held her back.

“ _What, Catcher?_ ” She looked beyond fed up when she turned to look at him again. “What the hell do you want?”

“Sweetheart, you can’t get upset with us for making sure you don’t get hurt,” glancing at Anakin, who’d sat back on his haunches to look on with a hard frown, Catcher turned his attention back to the brunette and tipped his head. “Do you really want to stop?”

“ ** _No_**. But I’m not going to get what I want so what the fuck’s the point?”

“ _Iza_ ,” Anakin drew her attention to him and shot her a look. “What has Obi-Wan said about _boundaries?_ ”

“ _Obi-Wan isn’t fucking **here** , Anakin_,”

“That doesn’t matter,” he shook his head. “Clearly Catcher saw something I couldn’t. _He_ was uncomfortable with the amount of pressure I was using, so I eased off. I understand you’re frustrated and I’m sorry, but I’m not going to make him uncomfortable and also risk hurting you at the same time.”

“This was the dumbest fucking idea,” Iza folded her arms and shifted her eyes elsewhere. “I thought the two of you would be _fun_ together.”

“Don’t do that, Iza. Don’t pull that shit.”

“ _He_ said he wasn’t going to play _nice_ ,” pointing her thumb behind her at Catcher, Iza scowled harder. “ _You_ were nice and riled up too. I don’t fucking _get it_.”

“ _What_ do you want? Hm? What do you want so badly, Iza?” Anakin leveled his gaze with hers and turned his hands up. “What are you asking from us?”

“ _Hurt me, Anakin_ ,” she stared him down from her place on Catcher’s lap, unblinking. “ _That_ is what I want. I know my own limits and you’re not pushing them hard enough. Neither of you are. I have _plenty_ of code words. I have _gestures_ for when I can’t use those words. Stop playing softly with me. I don’t want it.”

“Are _you_ comfortable with that?” Anakin gestured to Catcher, raising an eyebrow. “Because that _does_ matter, whether she recognizes it or not,”

“I…” Catcher took a deep breath and gave a light shrug before looking at Iza. “Define _hurt_ , sweetheart,”

“Don’t _beat_ me,” she rolled her eyes, looking annoyed. “Just let _me_ be the one to say when it’s too much.”

“Little Bit,” nestling his head against hers, the clone shut his eyes. “Will you _please_ be specific?”

“Do you remember how we used to play after rough days on the ground, Catch?”

“Yeah,” he let out a quiet huff. “I remember.”

“Like that.”

Catcher seemed to hesitate for a long moment, tucking his chin in the crook of her neck as he mulled this over. On the one hand, he didn’t want to piss her off by not giving her what she asked for. It was _reasonable_ —he supposed—and she wasn’t really asking for anything they hadn’t done before. But he no longer held that kind of aggression inside of him, either. He wouldn’t say he was _uncomfortable_ , just unsure.

“We’re allowed to tap out, too,” Anakin piped, watching the two look down at him. “If it gets to be too much for either of us to handle, _we_ are allowed to call it, Iza.”

“ _Fine_ ,” she waved a hand dismissively, still looking annoyed. Both men had the feeling she’d agree to anything in order to get what she wanted out of them. “But don’t do it over something so stupid.”

Anakin looked like he wanted to argue, but they were already running the risk of turning this into a full blown fight. It would be easier to just give in and take precautions when necessary. She didn’t need to know that he was holding back. Flicking his eyes to Catcher, Anakin gestured.

“You’re up,”

Catcher snorted out a laugh and shook his head.

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

“What’s wrong, Catch?” Leaning back into his chest, Iza dropped her head onto his shoulder to look at him, smiling slowly. He had a bad feeling about that smile. “ _Scared?_ ”

“Don’t you do it, Little Bit,” he warned, giving her a look. Iza only grinned and shoved her shoulders back into him, turning her head to bite his ear.

“What are you gonna do? Hm? _Nothing_.” Tugging at his ear with her teeth, she nuzzled at his neck and snickered. “ _All mouth_.”

“Sweetheart, I mean it,”

“ _All tongue and no teeth_ ,” humming, Iza stretched her arms up and hooked them over his shoulders lazily, gazing down at Anakin. “Not like _cyar’ika_. He has _bite_.”

Anakin looked like he was trying not to smirk, shaking his head slowly at her. Oh—he knew what she was doing. Dragging Catcher into a possessive, jealous rage was _stupid_ , but probably very effective for what she wanted. He could already see Catcher’s features darkening as the man stared at her as she continued taunting him. This would be interesting to watch.

“I can’t remember the last time you left marks on me, Catch,” Iza pouted, fingers playing in the ends of his hair. Looking at him again, she raised an eyebrow. “How am I supposed to remember who I belong to when you can’t even mark me up properly?”

 _That_ did it. The only warning Iza had was the harsh growl that left Catcher’s throat before he scooped her up and laid her down across his lap. Holding a palm out in front of Anakin, he narrowed his eyes and peeled his lips back over his teeth.

“ _Spit_ ,” the demand in his voice was rough and for a minute, the Dark Jedi was taken aback. He wasn’t about to be told twice, though he found it a little awkward as he spit into the other man’s palm. This wasn’t exactly something he’d expect from Catcher. Not after his insistence of how he didn’t want to _interact_ with him. Watching as the clone added to the collection in his hand, Anakin was not at all prepared for how quickly and brutally he brought that hand down against Iza’s ass. The brunette let out a cry that he’d never heard before, even when he witnessed Obi-Wan giving her the spankings she loved so much. The second crack was just as vicious and left behind a solid handprint slick with saliva. “ _Ibac'ner_.”

“ _Nayc_.” Iza snickered breathlessly, turning to look back at him. “Not yours.”

Raising his hand again, Catcher spared no mercy with the hard swats that followed. One after the other until Iza was arching back into the downswing and burying her face against the bed with loud, deep moans. Anakin could see the clone keeping a close eye on the reddening welts his hand had left behind, though he didn’t seem to ease up on how hard he was striking her. When he stopped again, he trailed the tips of his fingers along the swelling marks and grinned faintly at the way she jumped.

“ _Ner_ ,” his throat needed clearing _bad._ “Say it, Little Bit,”

Iza seemed to be too busy wheezing into the bedsheets. Her body trembled lightly as it adjusted to the pleasurable pain radiating through it and if she were to rub her thighs together, she’d feel a generous amount of wetness that hadn’t been there before.

“Color, sweetness,” Anakin interrupted, not looking at Catcher.

“ _Cin_ ,” taking a deep breath, she turned her head and looked back at the clone again, wiggling her hips. “ _Not. Yours._ ”

He wouldn’t strike her again. Not yet. Not on her ass, anyway. Growling irritably, Catcher gave a rough tap of his fingers against the sensitive flesh of her pussy, making her jump and squeal.

“ _Little Bit_ ,” he followed it up with light strokes of his fingers, purposely ignoring her attempts to get him to touch her clit and sink into her. “You better fucking say it.”

“ _Yours_.” Iza set her knees further apart and arched her hips back temptingly. “ _Please?_ ”

“No.” Catcher gave a quick swat to her ass and lifted her off of his lap, unceremoniously dumping her onto the bed. He glanced at Anakin with a faint smile on his face and held a finger up as if telling him to _wait for it_. It took all of three seconds before Iza was rolling over with an outraged yell and lunging at him. Catcher got there first, snagging her by the wrists and throwing his weight forward to pin her to the bed beneath him. As she wriggled and fought, he grinned wildly and tipped his head, snickering. “ _Feisty_ , aren’t we?”

“ _Genet_ ,” Iza gave a look like she hadn’t wanted to say it, but Catcher read the subtle hint of uneasiness in her expression and released her wrists.

“Better?” He asked gently, getting a nod in return. Smiling, he bowed his head and gave a quick knock against hers before that wild grin returned. “You won’t get what you want, Little Bit. You withheld from me—I’m gonna withhold from _you_.”

“I gave you what you wanted!”

“You were a wretched little _brat_.” Catcher gave a contemplative look for all of two seconds before swatting a hand against one of her tits. Iza jumped and stared at him for a moment before a rush of breath gusted out of her, followed by a rough growl.

“ _Again_ ,”

“Nope,” he smiled like an absolute bastard, choosing instead to pinch her nipple between his fingers and tug. “Skywalker, you can join in at any time.”

Anakin raised an eyebrow and slowly got up from the floor, crawling onto the bed and taking up the spot nearest to Iza’s head. He smiled down at her when she turned to look at him and pout.

“What? What do you want?” Brushing his fingers through her hair, Anakin snorted when Iza reached out and pawed at his chest. “ _Words_ , sweetness,”

“Please?”

“That’s not telling me what you want,”

“ _Cyar’ika_ , make him—”

“I can’t _make him_ do anything, sweetness,” Anakin grinned down at her, shrugging a shoulder. “Besides—you haven’t earned what you want. You were _very_ rude to him.”

Iza looked almost bewildered as she shifted her gaze between the two of them. Then her eyes narrowed and she shot Anakin a filthy look.

“Are you just going to let him mark up what’s _yours_ , _cyar’ika?_ ”

“Oh ho— _no no_ ,” Anakin waved his finger at her and shot a quick look at Catcher. “That’s dirty.”

“He’s taking it,” Iza reached to slide her arms around Catcher’s neck, pulling up from the bed to press herself flush against his chest. “ _All of it_.”

The two men looked at one another over Iza’s shoulder for a long time before exchanging silent nods of understanding. They could play along with this game. It was _just a game_ , after all. Grinning, Catcher wound his arm around Iza’s waist and held her to him, giving a slow shrug of his shoulder.

“Guess we know which one of us she likes best, eh?”

“ _For the moment_ ,” Anakin shifted to sit back against the head of the bed, adopting an irritated expression as he draped an arm over his knee. “The minute she stops getting what she wants from you, she’ll come crawling over to me. _She always does_.”

Iza glanced between the two of them, concern sinking into her features. She wasn’t entirely sure whether or not this was them _getting along_ or if they were finding a way to be snarky with one another without coming to blows.

“I don’t see her _crawling_ to you now,” Catcher sat back on his heels, pulling Iza along with him. The hand at her waist clutched her tighter while the other encouraged her to wrap her legs around him.

“Mm,” Anakin shrugged and rested his head against the wall. “You would have to let her go first.”

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

Anakin simply turned his hands up, eyes shifting to Iza as a faint smile lifted the corners of his lips. He could feel the way she seemed to struggle internally with how to react to them. She felt _confused_ and perhaps a little on the worried side. He wouldn’t say anything. Looking her over slowly, he brought his eyes back up to level with hers and smiled wider. It took everything in him not to grin or look at Catcher when Iza twisted in the other man’s hold.

“Where are _you_ going?” Catcher asked, clamping his fingers down on her hip. Pausing, Iza looked back at him for a moment. When she started to open her mouth to say something, he shook his head at her and tapped her lips with a finger. “ _Mine_.”

“Yes, but…”

“ _No buts._ ”

“Catcher,” the confliction in Iza’s tone was heavy. “We’re supposed to be—”

“I marked it,” the clone gave a light tap to her backside and smiled when she drew in a sharp breath. “ _It’s mine_.”

“You didn’t mark her mouth,” Anakin piped, drawing their attention back to him. “I _dare_ you to try that while I’m in here.”

“I think it counts when she opens her mouth and _says_ it’s mine— _cyar’ika_.” Catcher’s grin became venomous as he propped his chin on Iza’s shoulder and watched something in Anakin’s eyes darken. For a moment, the tension between the two felt _believable_. As though the clone was actually attempting to taunt the other man in order to cause some kind of ruckus in the middle of all of this. After a few seconds, Anakin snorted.

“ _Iza_ ,” he watched the brunette twist to look at him again and quirked a questioning brow at her. When she only tilted her head in response, he spread his knees and gestured to the erection straining the front of his trousers. He said nothing. He didn’t shift his gaze. He just waited. Slowly, Iza began pulling away from Catcher, who grasped her hip to try and keep her close.

“ _Little Bit_ ,”

“Please?” She looked back at him with a pout. “ _Both_ of you can have me. He’s only asking for my mouth, Catch,”

“What are you asking for? Hm?” Bringing his hand up, Catcher caught her by the chin and raised an eyebrow. “Tell me what it is, Little Bit,”

“I want both of you.” Iza swallowed hard and brought her hands up to brush her fingers along the sides of his face. “Let him have my mouth, Catch. Let him have it and you can take what’s _yours_.”

The clone eyed her for a long moment before a growl rumbled in his throat. Before Iza could register what was happening, Catcher had pushed her from his lap to the bed, flipping her onto her belly with a quick flick of his wrist. He didn’t wait, he didn’t give her time to get herself situated with Anakin. He simply grabbed her by the hips and hauled her back against his pelvis.

“ _Sal?_ ” He’d already lined himself up and started budging against her, though he’d back off if she truly wasn’t ready. They’d played this game before; he’d taken her unprompted during a rough game multiple times. He always— _always_ —gave her a moment to consent before he did it, one way or another. It didn’t surprise him that Anakin looked scandalized, though Iza was already melting back against him and giving a nod of her head.

“ _Cin_.” Iza’s consenting color was followed by a startled cry as Catcher sank all the way to the base in one go. Burying her face against her arms, the brunette shivered when he drew out and slammed back in without mercy. Letting out a tiny noise when he leaned over and settled against her back, Iza gasped in surprise as his fingers tangled in her hair and pulled her head up, his teeth tugging hard at her ear.

“You better say it, Little Bit,” the rough demand in his voice was enough to draw a heavy moan out of her. “You tell me who you belong to before your mouth is too full to talk.”

“ _You_ ,” _stars above_ , her breathing was already ragged. It didn’t help much to have him thrusting into her so damn hard. “I belong to you, Catch,”

“ _Good girl_ ,” rearing back, he smacked a hand down solidly against her already-tender ass and brought his attention to Anakin, gesturing. “Go on,”

Anakin actually looked a bit _unsure_ about the whole thing now. He wasn’t bothered over listening to Iza declare that she _belonged_ to Catcher; that was the least worrying part of the whole thing, honestly. He was mostly just iffy about getting anywhere near Iza’s mouth while she was being fucked so roughly. _Teeth_ were an issue, after all. His eyes were drawn to the brunette when he felt a hand pawing at his ankle and he cussed under his breath before scooting closer on the bed.

“Hi,” he smiled uneasily as Iza smoothed her palms up along his thighs and grinned lazily at him.

“ _Hi_ , _cyar’ika_ ,” hooking her fingers in the waist of his sleeping trousers, Iza started to pull them down when Anakin slid his palm under her chin and pulled her attention back to his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t piss her off, Skywalker,” Catcher warned, punctuating his words with a hard crash of his hips into Iza’s. “Just give her what she wants.”

The other man had to fight not to scowl or sigh. Instead of questioning Iza whether or not she was sure she could manage both tasks at once, he bowed his head to kiss her and lifted up from the bed to help her ease the trousers off his hips. Still holding firm to her chin, he looked her dead in the eye and tapped her bottom lip with a finger from his other hand.

“You be _careful_.”

Iza gave him an offended look and scoffed as much as she could. She understood what he meant, of course, but she felt a little indignant over the idea that he thought she wouldn’t be mindful about what she was doing. Feeling him gently squeeze her chin, she flicked her gaze upward again and found him smiling affectionately. _Okay, fine_. Gesturing for him to move closer, the brunette let out another cry when Catcher pushed forward roughly and hit a spot so deep that it startled her.

“ _Catcher_ ,” dropping her head forward as she blinked spots out of her eyes, Iza flexed her fingers against Anakin’s thighs and blew out a harsh breath. “ _Genet_ , love.”

A growl followed but he complied, taking it a bit easier with his thrusts. When she was finally able to think properly again, Iza picked her head up to focus her attention on Anakin. Her fingers trailed along his thigh to his cock, stroking lightly over the base and up towards the head while he twitched and grumbled at her.

“Don’t tease,” he muttered, reaching to thread his fingers into her hair. Shifting closer again, he butted the blunt tip against her mouth and stared down at her. “Go on, sweetness,”

Parting her lips, Iza lowered her head and took as much of him into her mouth as she could handle, licking and sucking in hard pulls while being as mindful of her damn teeth as she possibly could. It wasn’t _easy_ with Catcher shoving into her the way that he was, but she managed. When Anakin began fucking himself in and out of her mouth, however, it got a bit tricky. The two seemed to work out a decent rhythm with each other; Catcher would slide inside of her when Anakin drew back, and then the clone pulled out when the other man rocked his hips forward into her mouth. It made her feel _filthy_ in a delightful sort of way, and Iza didn’t even try to hide it. She moaned as wantonly as she could, pushing back on Catcher and swallowing around Anakin whenever possible. She was pretty sure she’d gotten off at least twice since they’d started. Judging by the way Catcher had suddenly started cussing and praising her—she _must’ve_. She was just so damn lost in a haze of pleasure that she barely knew what was happening anymore and that was fine with her.

Someone murmured that they were about to come. She wasn’t sure which one. The hard press of hips against her ass and the heavy heat of a chest colliding with her back said it was Catcher. He swore at her, continued praising her, and then took hold of her hair to help guide her mouth along the length of Anakin’s cock. _That_ seemed to do it for the other man. The motions of Anakin’s hips were no longer mindful and Iza found herself unable to breathe more than once. And then he was stilling her, hips jumping slightly as he buried his cock in her throat and growled out his release. He commanded her to swallow—though she had already started out of habit—and pulled back to lean his head against the wall. Iza lowered herself onto the bed, Catcher inadvertently flattening her in the process, and buried her head against her arms to try and regain some semblance of control on her breathing.

“Sweetheart?” The clone rubbed a hand along her side and pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder.

“M’fine,” she was _sore_ , but she’d live. “Tired.”

“Do you need anything?”

“Water,” she was going to pass out right here. She doubted she’d get two sips in. “Please,”

“I’ll get it,” Anakin offered, carefully getting up from the bed. Iza could hear the shift of material as he pulled his trousers back into place and felt the air move when he walked out of the room. When the door had shut behind him, Catcher rolled off of the brunette and drew her into his arms.

“Hey,” he cupped her chin and lifted her head to level their gazes, looking concerned. “You sure you’re all right?”

Iza smiled and leaned in to kiss him. She paused halfway and settled for knocking her forehead to his instead. She doubted he’d want a kiss after she’d had her mouth all over Anakin’s cock.

“I’m absolutely fine, my love,” she promised. “It was… overwhelming, but in a good way.”

“I think you should rest, regardless,” he leaned up and kissed her forehead. No—he really didn’t want to kiss her after Anakin had come in her mouth. “I’ll stay with you, Little Bit. If you need anything—”

“I will let you know.” Turning over, Iza snuggled into him and buried her face in his chest. “Love you, Catch,”

“Love you too, Little Bit.”


	6. Call Me Your Master

“Darling, are you all right?”

Iza looked up from where she’d sprawled out across the bed with one of Obi-Wan’s books, dressed in little more than a borrowed tunic, and smiled at him faintly.

“I’m fine,” her voice cracked lightly and she looked beyond tired, but what troubled Obi-Wan the most were the _bruises_. Her face and neck were littered with harsh little imprints from someone’s fingers, and her backside looked as though it had taken quite a beating as well. He wondered what else was hiding beneath the material of the tunic. Frowning lightly, he came further into the bedroom and sat down at the edge of the bed.

“You do not look fine,” gold-hued eyes flicked over her in concern and Iza sighed quietly before resting her chin atop one of her hands.

“It was part of the game. It was all consensual. I promise.”

“Which one of them was it?”

“Both.” She glanced at him to see his reaction, unsurprised when Obi-Wan did a bit of a double-take and stared at her.

“I… beg your pardon?” He let out a dry laugh and knit his brows in confusion. “Did you say… _both_ of them?”

“Is it _that_ shocking that I managed to get them to get along long enough to bed me together?” Turning over slowly, Iza smiled at him. “Or are you just surprised that _this_ is the extent of the damage done and I don’t look worse?”

“A little bit of both,” moving closer, Obi-Wan reached out to brush the hair off of Iza’s face and trail a fingertip along her cheek. The corner of his mouth quirked up when she leaned into the touch and he could tell she was fighting the urge to lean into his whole hand. She’d been very good about not begging him for his time over the last few days. Obi-Wan knew well enough, however, that she was pining quite hard. Poor dear. She would be waiting much longer before she would have him again. “They remembered the aftercare at least, yes?”

“Mm,” she nodded and set her head back down. “I fell asleep with Catcher for a while and took a bath with Anakin after. They were both careful and sweet.”

“I would like to know who left such brutal marks on your backside, darling,” leaning over, Obi-Wan lifted the hem of the tunic and frowned deeply. “This was not done with the care—”

“Catcher knows my pain limits, Obi-Wan,” giving him a look, Iza reached to tug the tunic back down. “He’s just as careful as you are when it comes to this. It looks the way it does because he uses a flat hand and he spits in his palm before he does it. Wet skin makes a harsher impact.”

The older man sat looking at her for a long moment before he eventually sighed and turned a hand up. _Very well_. If she insisted that the clone knew what he was doing, he wouldn’t fuss. He could not see any broken skin, after all, so the other man hadn’t genuinely hurt her. It was just unpleasant to look at. Glancing back over, he eyed the book she was reading and reached to pluck it up.

“ _Hey!_ ”

“I won’t lose your place, darling,” he’d already stuck his thumb in between the pages. “I’m only looking.”

“It’s just a book on plants, Obi-Wan,” shrugging, Iza reached for it and whined when he held it away from her. “It’s _your_ book!”

“Where did you find this?” Making a face as he studied the cover and the first few pages, Obi-Wan grunted when Iza leaned against his back and reached for the book again. “ _Off_ ,”

Making a sad sort of noise, the brunette backed away from him and tucked her hands into her lap, staring down at them with a huff. She hated that she wasn’t allowed to touch him. He had even made her take up the space on the other side of Anakin in the bed instead of the middle because he didn’t want her snuggling with him in the middle of the night. It supposedly _defeated the purpose_ of their little game. She was pretty sure this _game_ wasn’t supposed to start until the following week, but Obi-Wan had been pretty vague about the rules. She’d spent the last two nights sleeping in Catcher’s room simply because her two lovers seemed to prefer nestling up with each other now that she wasn’t in the middle for them to both latch onto. She didn’t look up when the book was set into her lap and she ignored him when he tried to brush the hair off of her face again.

“Darling,” warm fingers slid beneath her chin to lift her head, but Iza stubbornly refused to look into his eyes. “ _Iza_ ,”

“What?” She glanced at him briefly and stared back down at her hands.

“Why are you upset?”

“That’s a stupid question.”

“My darling, we discussed the rules of the game,” he combed his fingers back into her hair, grunting when she tipped her head away from the touch. It took a lot of restraint on his part not to snatch her by the roots and hold her still.

“We discussed what the rules would be for _after_ this week,” she reminded him. “You only said we couldn’t sleep together this week. You did not say I wasn’t allowed to touch you.”

“Perhaps I was not clear enough,” sighing, Obi-Wan set his hand back on his lap. “That’s my mistake.”

“Did you want something? Did you come in here to ask me something or do you need me to leave so you can go to bed?” Already, Iza was starting to move off the bed, taking her book and her upset feelings with her. “Just let me get my cigarettes and I’ll leave you alone.”

“ _Darling_ ,” taking hold of the back of the tunic, Obi-Wan pulled her back and wound his arms around her, drawing her tight against his chest. He didn’t like how tense she felt when he rested his chin against her shoulder and he didn’t like that he could feel the ache in his ribs signaling that she seemed to be on the verge of crying. “What is it, my dear girl? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t… like this game.” Iza wanted very much to sink back into him, but she was terrified that he’d reprimand her for it. “I wouldn’t mind playing it when we’re _supposed_ to be playing it. But this _bothers_ me.”

“I said very clearly that we would have no interaction until our trip, darling.”

“You said no _sexual_ interaction, Obi-Wan!” Turning to look at him, Iza frowned hard. “You said _nothing_ about making me sleep on the outside of the bed or that I’m not allowed to even _touch_ you unless you’re already touching _me_.”

“You are so very _needy_ , my darling,” letting out a quiet chuckle, the older man pressed his face against the side of her neck and sighed heavily. “Is this, perhaps, why you chose to bed Anakin and your Catcher at the same time? Did you think their brutish behavior would make up for the absence of my touch?”

“No,” she shook her head and shut her eyes. “It made me stop thinking about it.”

“You really must stop these behaviors, darling.” He dropped a kiss to her shoulder and gently squeezed her around the middle. “You’re going to get hurt.”

“It does not hurt any more than being deprived of you, my Obi-Wan,”

Behind her, Obi-Wan sighed again and tightened his hold on her. He didn’t say anything for a few moments as he rested his head against hers and extended a finger to run it along the length of her arm. Finally, he tutted quietly and gave a soft chuckle.

“Perhaps I’ve made the mistake of asserting so much dominance over you. Even Anakin has never been this needy—and I’ve done my best to treat you as equally as possible.”

“But I _like_ it,” tilting her head back to look at him, Iza pouted. “You know I wouldn’t allow you to have so much control if I didn’t.”

“I fear you’re giving me _too much_ control, my darling,”

“It’s what I want,” Iza’s voice dropped to a low whisper and she averted her gaze when he turned his head to look at her. “You should have been my master a long time ago, Obi-Wan.”

“Darling, you understand it would not have been the same if I _had_ been your master, don’t you?”

She shrugged her unoccupied shoulder and stared ahead at the wall. It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about this before. Iza knew good and well that if she’d had the opportunity to be his Padawan, things would have ended up _very_ different than they were now. Still, she couldn’t help wondering if _maybe_ they would’ve bonded as more than Master and Padawan. He’d certainly had no qualms with doing such a thing with Anakin.

“This is exactly why I feel you need a break from me, my love,” his beard tickled her skin when he nuzzled at her neck and Iza let out a heavy rush of breath that made him tut. “Don’t be upset.”

“I don’t need a _break_ from you,” Iza huffed, trying to keep the childish whine out of her voice. “That’s such an absurd thing to say— _to think_. Obi-Wan, I _worry_ for the way your head works sometimes.”

“You misunderstand,” drawing in a deep breath, he contemplated how to explain this in a way that wouldn’t upset her further. He had a feeling it was already a bit too late for that precaution, but it wouldn’t hurt to at least _try_ and be tactful about it. “You’ve become quite dependent on me for your happiness, my darling. You’ve become dependent on me for… a lot, actually. I don’t necessarily _mind_ it, but I feel you need to focus on _yourself_ as well. This is what I mean when I say you need a break. This is nothing I haven’t done with Anakin in the past, I’ll have you know. He will tell you the same thing.”

“Anakin and I are different people,” Iza muttered, playing with her hands.

“I am aware, darling.”

“I do not want to take a break while we are home. I will follow the command not to bother you for sex, but I do not enjoy feeling deprived of your affection. That’s unfair.”

“I have you now,” tipping his head to look at her, Obi-Wan gave another gentle squeeze as if to remind her where his arms currently rested. “Do you still feel deprived, my dear girl?”

Slowly, Iza shook her head. No, she actually felt quite comfortable despite the conversation.

“You are such a _needy_ girl,” smiling affectionately, Obi-Wan pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “I do so adore you, darling.”

“May I have you or not?”

“ _You may_ ,” nestling his cheek against hers with a sigh, the older man shut his eyes when Iza sank back into his chest and shifted to curl up in his lap. He knew he was a fool for giving in so easily, but he supposed she had a point about being _deprived_ while they were at home. This was a safe space for her. For all of them. Regardless of whatever games they decided to play, it was important to make sure everyone was comfortable and felt cared for. It did not change his feelings about her dependency on him, however. _That_ was still an issue he felt needed some kind of resolving. But the bond they shared seemed to have quite a lot of influence over this. He’d taken up the space Windu had left behind—on top of the bond he’d made initially. Perhaps he shouldn’t be so surprised that she was as clingy and needy with him. She did appear to be just as bad with Anakin and Catcher at times, too.

“May I sleep next to you tonight?” Iza’s voice was so soft and quiet that Obi-Wan almost hadn’t heard her. Opening his eyes, he tipped his head again to look at her and found her staring down at her hands once more. Giving a soft _hm_ of contemplation—as if he hadn’t already made the decision—the older man plucked the book from her lap and set it on the floor, drawing her attention. “I didn’t mark—”

“I remember what page you were on,” he smiled adoringly and brought a hand up to brush his knuckles down the side of her face. “I will put a marker in while you get changed. Unless this is what you wish to sleep in.”

“I can’t put panties on,” Iza muttered sheepishly. “My skin is too sore.”

“That’s all right, darling,” chuckling quietly, he lightly pinched her chin and brought her close to kiss the end of her nose. He could feel her doing her best to fight off the urge to kiss him and he had to commend her for her restraint. With as fussy as she was about being _deprived_ , the little brunette was surprisingly in control of herself when presented with such temptations. “You get yourself comfortable, then. I will be back in a moment.”

Nodding, Iza smiled faintly when he gave her another tiny kiss and then moved away from her. As promised, he picked the book up from the floor and found something to mark her place with before he wandered out of the room. When he’d gone, the brunette felt a sigh start to bubble up and had to force it back. Maybe it wasn’t such a good thing that she was so needy when it came to him—but she honestly couldn’t help it. There were days when she swore she might come out of her skin if she didn’t get at least a minute of his attention or even just one of his soft little smiles. It drove her crazy. There was something so deeply rooted in her head that convinced her she _needed_ him sometimes and she didn’t know how to handle herself when she couldn’t have him. It wasn’t like this with Anakin and Catcher. _Sure_ —she had moments where she desperately sought their attention, but they were both so generous with it that she didn’t really get this feeling very often. Obi-Wan kept her starving for it most of the time. At least, that was how she felt.

Remembering that she was supposed to be _getting comfortable_ , Iza crawled her way to the center of the bed and pulled the blankets back to get settled underneath. She tried to ignore the irritating sensation of the sheets against her sore skin—maybe she should’ve accepted the bacta salve when Catcher offered it—and pulled Obi-Wan’s pillow beneath her head just as he was coming back into the room. His hair was damp and he’d swapped into his sleeping trousers. Parked between his teeth was one of the sweesonberry rolls from the kitchen. Snorting, Iza raised an eyebrow at him.

“I thought food wasn’t allowed in bed?”

“It’s not,” he mumbled around the pastry. “I have no intention of coming into bed with it.”

“Did you… shower?”

“Briefly,” taking a large bite, he nodded. “I needed to rinse the sand from my hair. The speeder bike kicks up so much of it.”

“What did you need to go inland for, anyway?”

“Did I not tell you?” He crammed the rest of the pastry into his mouth in a manner that was rather out of character for him and gave her a funny look as he chewed. “I swear you’ve already asked me this.”

“You gave me the vague answer,” nestling her cheek against his pillow, the brunette watched him wander around the room, her eyes flicking along his shirtless form. _Fuck_ , he was handsome. “You just said you had to get _supplies for the trip_.”

“And that’s exactly what I went for.”

“All day?” He was starting to get a rather nice tan from living here on the compound. He wouldn’t get nearly as tanned as Anakin had, but the sunkissed look certainly suited him with the golden shift his eyes had taken on. Faintly, Iza wondered if _her_ skin had started tanning. She didn’t like looking into mirrors much lately. “You were gone before anyone else woke up.”

“I had to go quite far, darling,” pausing in his spot, he eyed her and propped his fingers against his hips. “What are you really questioning me about?”

“Nothing,” she said sincerely, giving a shrug. “I just thought maybe you’d tell me a little more about our trip, that’s all.”

“Mm,” he rubbed a hand along his beard and smirked at her. “I believe I’ve already told you why we can’t discuss it yet, my dear.”

“You honestly believe I would say anything to Anakin?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you to keep it to yourself,” coming over, he finally flipped the covers back and sat down on the edge of his side of the bed. “I don’t trust _him_ not to use every trick in the book to weasel it out of you.”

“Obi-Wan—”

“I love you, darling,” smiling fondly, he reached out and brushed the hair off of her face, tracing the curve of her jaw with a hooked finger. “This trip is for _us_. Just you and me. I would much prefer it if it stayed that way.”

Iza was going to cry. She was going to cry and melt into the bed and burst from the rush of sweet feelings that had slammed into her chest. No—it didn’t seem very fair to keep things from the others, but she had her very private solo moments with them. She had them all the time. She often felt like she didn’t have _enough_ of them with Obi-Wan. So instead of continuing to argue, she just nodded in a hurried manner and gazed back at him with all of the love and affection in the universe glittering in her eyes. He gave a quiet hum and cut the lights in the room with a wave of his hand, sliding into the bed beside her and giving a tug to the pillow she’d stolen.

“I believe this is mine,” he teased, attempting to pull the corner beneath his head.

“What am I supposed to use?”

“What do you _usually_ use, darling?” She was a brat. She honestly was. But Obi-Wan adored her.

Looking up at him in the dark, Iza shifted a bit and settled her cheek against his chest. His rumbling chuckle was loud in her ear and the arm that went around her felt almost possessive in nature. It made her relax enough to nestle closer against his side and drape her arm over his middle. She smiled when she felt him drop a kiss to the top of her head and gasped in quiet surprise when his free hand came up to nudge her chin and tilt her head back so he could seal his lips over hers. He tasted like the frosting from the pastry he’d eaten and he was almost too gentle in the manner that he kissed her. Iza wouldn’t complain. She was honestly just relieved and happy to feel his kiss again. Besides, the gentleness didn’t last long before he was pressing closer and pulling her tighter against his side, giving soft growls that were smothered by her lips. When he pulled back and looked at her, his eyes almost seemed to glow in the dim light of the bedroom and Iza could feel his chest rising and falling much quicker than it’d been before. His fingers clasped tightly around her wrist and guided her hand low on his pelvis, tucking it beneath the band of his sleeping trousers.

“Obi-Wan?” She thought they weren’t supposed to do this.

“Please, darling?” _Oh— **fuck**._ The soft growl in his voice made her squeeze her thighs together and Iza swore she’d never been so eager to give a handjob in her life. Nodding obediently, she reached further until her fingers were brushing along the length of his half-hard cock. She knew teasing him wasn’t a good idea and she didn’t intend to do it for long. She just wanted to feel him swell under her touch. He didn’t disappoint. Curling her fingers around him tight the way he liked it, Iza stroked in slow, squeezing passes, occasionally sweeping her thumb in slow arcs over the head or press-rubbing that stupidly sensitive spot below it. He rewarded her with rough praise and hard kisses, swearing quietly against her lips as he lifted his hips up from the bed and fucked himself into her hand. He’d tunneled his fingers into her hair at some point and Iza was not surprised at all when he started nudging her head beneath the covers. There was no resistance on her part. It was stifling hot beneath the blanket but that didn’t stop her from taking him into her mouth like he wanted her to. Only when he made attempts to push her all the way down the length did she hesitate, giving three little taps to his belly so he’d release her hair.

“I can’t,” she lifted the blanket and looked up at him with a soft, sorry expression on her face. “I’m still sore from this afternoon.”

“It’s all right, darling,” he nodded and smiled as reassuringly as he possibly could in that moment, brushing his knuckles against her cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

“You do not need to apologize, Iza.” Letting out a soft laugh, he gave her a teasing little nudge. “But I would like it if you finished, darling.”

She could do that. Giving apologetic kisses to his stomach, Iza worked her way back down and wrapped her lips around him again. She sucked in the greedy, hungry pulls he preferred and continued squeezing her fingers tight around what she couldn’t quite fit into her mouth. His hand found her hair again, pulled at it from the roots while he breathed out heavy moans and tried not to push his hips up from the bed too much. His praise became commands for her to suck harder, to do the thing with the flat of her tongue that made his legs tense and shake; he flipped the blanket off of her head and demanded that she look up at him while she had her mouth full of him. And when Iza was sure he was on the edge of orgasm, she pulled up until just the head was between her lips and swept her tongue in hard swirls around it, sucking audibly until he shouted and dug his shoulders into the pillow behind him. She swallowed without prompt—she never needed a command from him, really—and pulled back to lightly lap at him as he softened in her hand and shivered against the sheets.

“That’s enough, darling,” he murmured shakily, moving to tug his sleeping trousers back into place. Obliging, Iza released him and settled her cheek against his hip, letting out a soft hum when he ran his fingers through her hair. She would not complain about the ache that had started between her thighs. She was happy enough that he’d allowed her to give him gratification when they weren’t supposed to be touching one another _at all_. Shifting closer, the brunette repositioned where her head was resting and nuzzled at his belly, giving a soft sigh of contentment as Obi-Wan continued combing his fingers through her hair. “Iza?”

She picked her head up and looked at him, grunting quietly in question. He raised an eyebrow at her and tilted his head curiously, his fingers coming to brush beneath her chin.

“Are you too tired?”

“Too tired?” That was an odd question.

“I cannot remember a time when you did not immediately start begging for your own release, my girl,” he smiled and pursed his lips.

“Oh,” Iza blinked and slowly shrugged a shoulder. “I didn’t know… I thought you just…”

“Come here, darling,” giving a light tug to the tunic she wore, Obi-Wan beckoned her back up to where she’d been at his side, hauling her on top of him when she got close enough. Tipping his head up to kiss her, he skimmed his hands along her sides and gathered the hem of the tunic so it bunched around her waist. His touch was light and careful as he danced his fingers over the bruised skin of her ass, feeling her jump when he passed over areas that were too-tender to touch. Tutting softly, he shook his head. “I will be speaking to Catcher about this savagery.”

“Don’t,” Iza ran her fingertips through his beard and pressed tiny kisses to his bottom lip. “He offered the salve and I didn’t take it. Don’t be upset with him, Obi-Wan. He was very good to me afterward. I promise.”

The older man made a soft, disgruntled sound but did not continue to argue. Instead, he let his fingers trail down along the backs of her thighs as a brow quirked high on his forehead.

“Do you think you can lie on your back for me?”

Iza nodded.

“Good. Turn over, darling,”

Carefully, the brunette changed positions and turned onto her back as he asked. She let out a soft giggle when he pulled her up higher so her head rested beside his on the pillow and shut her eyes as he brushed his lips against the shell of her ear. His hands had slipped beneath the hem of the tunic again, smoothing upward to cup and squeeze her tits until she had to fight not to squirm on him. Even with her eyes shut, Iza could feel him watching her every reaction to his touch. He would give light pinches to her nipples to start, and then tug and slowly twist to make her back arch and make tiny cries bubble in her throat. He did not say anything. He simply breathed heavily against her ear and occasionally let out guttural sounds if she made noises that pleased him. Iza was enjoying the attention quite a bit when he stopped and wound his arms around her middle, his mouth pressing hard against the side of her neck as a low growl sounded in her ear and sent a wicked shiver down her spine.

“If I stop now, will you be a good girl for me and _not_ beg?” _Man_ , his voice was **rough**. Iza tried not to tense at the question as it played over in her head a few times. Finally, she nodded slowly and resisted the urge she had to squeeze her thighs together. She could _still_ feel the sting of his hand from the last time she’d done something like that. Obi-Wan let out a grunt behind her and nipped her ear. “Say _yes Master Kenobi_.”

Oh. _Oh._ She had not realized she’d gone to bed with The Bastard.

“Yes Master Kenobi,” it was ten times as hard to keep from squeezing her legs together or squirming now. Even breathing normally was difficult. He knew it, too. He always knew.

“ _Off_ ,” his arms fell away and Iza moved off of him as quickly as she could without hurting herself—or him. Unsure if she was still allowed to be near him, she kept a fair bit of space between them as she settled back down on the bed and rested her head on the tiny corner of the pillow he’d left for her. For a few moments, Obi-Wan simply studied her in the dim light, one hand coming over to run his forefinger beneath her chin in slow passes. Dropping it, he wrapped his hand in the front of her tunic and hauled her beside him again, dipping his head to kiss her. “ _Very_ good girl,”

Iza wondered if this was supposed to be some sort of test. He’d said this would be the sort of thing she’d be subjected to during their trip. Maybe he was checking to see whether or not she’d be able to handle it without stooping to pleading for what she wanted? She _could_. She knew she could. It just wouldn’t be fun, especially if he wasn’t going to allow her to seek gratification by her own hand. Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt him tug the tunic up over her hips and smooth his hand over her belly. Unable to stop the soft whimper that followed the touch, Iza dropped her head and buried her face in his shoulder, murmuring an apology.

“No need for apologies, darling,” his hand swept lower, fingers cupping her lightly before one slid along the slick folds of her sex and made her whole body shiver. “ _Darling_ —my goodness,”

It was a very real struggle for her not to beg. Her breathing was ragged as hell and she wanted very much to push her hips forward into the touch and plead for more—but she wouldn’t. She would just sit and wait and _tremble_ like a good girl while he took his time and made that ache even worse than it was already.

“Iza, _look at me_ ,”

Her head snapped up at the command and she tried desperately not to open her mouth and start listing all of the things she’d give him if he’d just stop _teasing_ her. It helped to focus on the color of his eyes. That gold was just so fucking pretty. She loved the natural blue they’d always been, but something about the gold felt so delightfully sinister and _fitting_ for him.

“Have you got something you’d like to say?”

“No sir,” she wasn’t falling for it. She knew the second she started asking, he’d start _taking_.

“Really?” He gave the slowest featherlight strokes of his fingertip against her clit and fought back a smirk when she shuddered and let out a harsh breath. “Absolutely nothing?”

“No sir,” her eyes were watering and she wasn’t sure why. She didn’t feel like she was going to cry. The sensations were quite sharp, however. Perhaps that was it?

“Very well,” Iza almost hollered when he pulled his hand away and brought his fingers to his lips, the confusion evident in her expression when he looked over at her and quirked a brow. “You said _nothing_ , darling,”

“I didn’t… I thought…” pressing her lips together tightly, Iza forced back the need to plead with him once more and just nodded, lowering her gaze. “Yes Master,”

“Shall we get some sleep?”

“Yes Master,” Iza wanted to leave the bed, truthfully. She needed to go somewhere and be upset for five minutes. Really, it was her own fault. She’d been certain that she knew what his little game was and she was wrong. Of course she’d been wrong. Obi-Wan was not an easy man to pin down when it came to his mind games. She should’ve known better. Planting her head against his chest where it’d been previously, she limply slung her arm across his middle again and tried to get as comfortable as possible. It wasn’t easy with the heavy ache between her thighs and the feeling of disappointment that had settled in her chest. Shutting her eyes when he kissed the top of her head again and wound his arm around her waist, Iza tried not to sigh too heavily. Trying to force herself to sleep was difficult. She kept falling into the haze of being half-unconscious while still being fully aware of everything going on around her and would be jerked back to complete alertness by her own stupid thoughts. Obi-Wan didn’t seem to have trouble falling asleep at all. His breathing had evened out quickly and the hold he had on her had gone a bit slack at some point.

Frustrated, Iza turned over onto her side away from him and parked her head on the pillow instead. How fucking rich was this? She’d been given the privilege of sleeping beside him again and now she couldn’t get to sleep because of her dumb mistake. How stupid. How absolutely _asinine_. Faintly, she wondered when Anakin would be coming to bed. Maybe he’d be able to relieve her of the frustration she’d been left with if she asked nicely. She might be waiting for a while. Anakin tended to stay down in the hangar late into the night just tinkering with the starship sometimes. Knowing that they were about to embark on a trip, he might be fixing a few loose things up for Obi-Wan. _Ugh_. Huffing into the pillow, she bit back the groan that wanted to follow and squeezed her eyes closed tighter like that might help her fall asleep. Behind her, Obi-Wan shifted around in his sleep, turning onto his side and cuddling up against her back with a quiet groan. Iza almost whined when he pressed his face against the back of her neck, knowing damn well it was only going to keep her awake and alert to feel his breath on her skin.

“You’re restless,” his voice was low and muffled and sleepy. “What’s wrong, darling?”

“Nothing Master,” she didn’t even know if he was fully awake. “Go back to sleep,”

“Obi-Wan,” he mumbled, sliding his arm around her waist. “Not Master right now.”

“Whoever you are—I’m all right.”

“Mm,” tucking his chin against her shoulder, the older man let out a soft, tired breath and reached down to cup her between the thighs again. “Part your legs for me, darling.”

Iza did as she was told, unable to keep from moaning as he slowly began circling her clit with his fingertips. The light scratch of Obi-Wan’s beard tickled the side of her neck as he kissed it before nuzzling his nose behind her ear.

“You were very good for me, darling,” he murmured, adding a bit more pressure to the passes of his fingers. “You will only need to get used to not having gratification while we’re out.”

Yeah. She knew. She wasn’t looking forward to that part. But Iza had agreed to the terms of the game and she would stick to it for as long as she possibly could. He couldn’t leave her to suffer forever, after all.

“May I have you, darling?” His teeth were surprisingly gentle against her skin and his breathing seemed to have gotten heavier the longer he touched her. A bit shocked, Iza turned her head to look at him for a moment and nodded slowly.

“Of course you may,” she was not going to argue if he wanted to have sex, no sir. Letting out a giggling squeal when he wrapped his arms around her middle and rolled onto his back with her sprawled on his chest again, Iza tipped her head back and brushed her lips against his cheek.

“Sit up and turn around for me,” he didn’t seem to want to stop running his hands along her hips, even when the brunette began to reposition herself as he’d asked. “Take that dreadful thing off.”

“It’s _yours_ ,” Iza snorted, gathering the hem of the tunic in her hands.

“Mm, I’m aware. I would still like it _off_ ,” his fingers trailed along the tops of her thighs as he watched her work the tunic off over her head and toss it somewhere on the floor. Humming his approval, he smoothed his hands up her torso and palmed her tits, running his thumbs in slow circles around the hard tips of her nipples. Iza half expected him to command her to get closer and was pleasantly surprised when he sat up on his own and closed his mouth over one of the sensitive peaks. Threading her fingers into his hair when he began to suck and lightly drag the edges of his teeth over it, she dipped her head to bury her nose in his hair and smother a quiet whimper. As much as she adored him when he slipped into his Bastard mode, Iza couldn’t deny that she loved when he was gentle and attentive too. She felt him give a light nudge to get her to lift up and when she had, he started tugging his sleeping trousers out of the way. Reaching back to help him, she gasped and groaned when he brought his hand between her legs and began to lightly rub her clit once more.

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,” she didn’t mean to sound so needy and desperate, though he seemed amused by it as he chuckled and pressed hard kisses from her chest up to her neck. His hand moved and her hips jumped when she felt the head of his cock glide against her while he blindly positioned himself and urged her to lower herself onto him.

“Slowly, darling,” his mouth had barely moved from the spot on her neck and Iza could feel him raising a dark mark on her skin. Once she’d gotten settled all the way, he gently began to guide her into a steady rhythm and growled heavily against her neck. “ _Force_ , I’ve missed the way you feel.”

It had only been half of a week, but Iza shared the sentiment. She was used to having him at least once on a daily basis and while she’d been having quite a lot of fun with Anakin and Catcher, it was never the same if she couldn’t balance things out properly between all three of her lovers. Letting out a soft noise as he began trailing his mouth up from her neck to her jaw while his hands kneaded her hips, Iza slid her arms around his shoulders and pressed closer to him, doing her best to keep the steady pace. It didn’t last long as Obi-Wan began pulling her in quicker and harder, his teeth dragging along her chin before his lips crashed against hers in a bruising kiss. Iza followed the motions as well as she could, but it was easier to just let him guide her. She wouldn’t complain when his fingers dug into bruises, but she couldn’t help gasping and tensing up when he gave a light pop of his palm against her ass.

“Sorry darling,” he smiled up at her, sweat-damp hair falling across his forehead and into his eyes. “Habit.”

Reaching up, Iza combed her fingers through his hair to push it back and then cupped his face in her hands, bowing her head to kiss him roughly as she ground her hips down into his. _Really_ —she didn’t mind. The sting didn’t last and she was so overjoyed with being allowed to have him that he could’ve kept going and she would not have _actually_ complained. Pulling back with his bottom lip between her teeth, she gave a playful little tug and earned a harsh growl from the older man, warning her to let go. She wouldn’t. Instead, she nibbled and sucked at it, drawing it further into her mouth to tease it with the point of her tongue. Obi-Wan’s response was to push his hips up into her harder, and then to grasp her by the waist and roll her beneath him. Iza inadvertently released him when she squealed in delight, pouting when he pulled his head just out of her reach. He only smirked at her and slid his hands along the sides of her thighs before hooking his hands behind her knees and pushing them up towards her chest.

“Hold these for me, darling,”

She did as she was told, wrapping her arms around her knees and dropping her head back on the bed with a loud moan when he rocked into her hard. Iza wasn’t typically fond of positions that kept her legs up past someone’s shoulders, but _damn_. She happily made exceptions for Obi-Wan. The hard press of spit-slick fingers against her clit made her moan again and she absently squeezed her thighs together, drawing a rough noise out of Obi-Wan’s throat.

“ _Again_ ,” he gave the back of her thigh a sharp tap with his free hand. “Do it again and _hold it_.”

She did. And after a few good, deep strokes, her head fell back on the bed again as her eyes rolled up in her skull and her toes flexed and curled tight in the air. Her voice was barely more than a whimper as she pleaded with him, though she cried out again when he gingerly slipped his fingers around her throat. He didn’t squeeze as hard as he usually did, but that was fine with her. When he started picking up the pace with his fingertips and fucking her harder, Iza couldn’t take it. She damn near kicked him in the face as her feet shot straight up and she shouted out her orgasm, tightening up on him harder while he praised her and continued rocking into her. It didn’t take him long to follow after her and he dropped his head to her shoulder, practically snarling as he dug his hips into hers to bury himself as deep as possible as he came. He was relatively quick to urge her to put her legs back down so he could settle in place on top of her, keeping his face nestled in her neck with his cock still inside of her.

“Am I too heavy, darling?” he slurred, sounding as though he would rather not move if he didn’t have to. Sliding her arms around him, Iza shook her head and turned to nuzzle at the side of his face.

“No. Please stay,”

“Mm,” he smiled lazily and wrapped his fingers in the ends of her hair, giving a tiny tug. “As you wish, my darling,”

~*~*~*~

Iza wasn’t sure if it was the smell of cigarettes that woke her or the sound of hushed voices out on the balcony. Her body throbbed angrily in protest when she twisted to find Obi-Wan had vacated the spot behind her and she rolled back onto her belly with a heavy sigh. Anakin wasn’t here either. His side of the bed was still cool to the touch. Stuck in a strange haze between wanting to get up and join her lovers out on the balcony, but being far too comfortable and lazy to do more than roll around between the sheets, Iza stretched out along the surface of the bed and gazed out towards the slider. At first, she wasn’t entirely sure what she was seeing. She knew for certain that it was Obi-Wan and Anakin outside. The height differences and features of the silhouetted figures were familiar enough for her to figure which was which. But she couldn’t figure out why they were huddled against the railing—at least, not at first. It took a moment or two before she realized that Anakin had been nudged up against the side of the rail and that Obi-Wan had taken him from behind.

Crawling to the edge of the bed for a better look, Iza rested her head on her arm and bit down on a knuckle. She could hear them now. Anakin’s low moans mixed with Obi-Wan’s quiet growling interspersed with soft cussing and murmured praise. Obi-Wan was leaving such _vicious_ looking scratch marks down the younger man’s side as he straightened and grasped his hips to hold him firmly in place. Anakin looked beyond blissed out. One arm was draped along the length of the railing, hand occasionally clenching as if to keep him from rolling off the side of it. His eyes were so dilated and unfocused that Iza was pretty sure he was on the brink of orgasm. The hot, heavy sensation of need pooling in her belly really hoped she’d get to watch him fall apart. The moan that followed a rather hard thrust of Obi-Wan’s hips had the older man clamping a hand down over Anakin’s mouth and leaning over him to bite his shoulder.

“ _Quiet, Anakin_ ,” he combed his fingers into the younger man’s long hair and gave a quick tug. “You’re going to wake her up.”

Anakin’s glassy eyes shifted towards the inside of the bedroom and fell on Iza, studying her for a moment. He could swear she hadn’t been lying in that spot when he’d checked a few moments ago. And she had most definitely been asleep before. He could—quite clearly—see the shimmer of those gold-hued eyes staring back at him through the transparisteel and he started to pick his head up when she brought her finger to her lips and shook her head. _No_. There was no reason to alert Obi-Wan. There was no harm in letting her watch. Unable to keep a stupid, blissful grin from forming, the younger man dropped his head forward and pretended to muffle his moans against his arm. Iza was practically chewing her knuckle now, breathing heavily as she watched the pace of Obi-Wan’s hips pick up— _stutter_ —and then he was pulling back from Anakin, cock in hand as he all but snatched the younger man from the railing by the hair and dragged him to his knees. One of the chairs blocked the view no matter which way Iza tried to roll around but she heard the unmistakable snarl rising in Obi-Wan’s chest that signaled his release and heard him whisper filth-laden praise to Anakin as he ran his fingers through his hair.

Realizing they would likely be heading inside soon, Iza moved back to her spot on the bed and thumped her head into the pillow. What a sham. _Hearing_ the end of it and _seeing_ it were two different things and she felt like she’d been cheated. She knew— _she knew_ Obi-Wan and Anakin kept this side of their relationship to themselves for a reason, but surely letting her watch _once in a while_ wouldn’t hurt? It wasn’t even something that had really turned her on until they’d formed the relationship. Now the tiny glimpses she caught of the two of them often sparked something _wild_ that she didn’t know what to do with half of the time. As the voices out on the balcony began to sober up and get louder, Iza shut her eyes and pretended to be dead asleep. She could hear them both moving around the room, felt Obi-Wan slide in behind her. Just to be a brat, she turned over with a groan and nuzzled her face against his chest before he could get completely settled. It was damp with sweat and he smelled heavily of cigarettes and _Anakin_. Maker above, she almost licked him on sheer impulse.

“Darling?” He was checking to see if she was conscious—probably. When Iza continued her little charade of pretending to be asleep, Obi-Wan laughed breathlessly and continued getting comfortable. He muttered something under his breath and wound an arm around her, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. She heard Anakin say something on the other side of the room and felt the bed dip when he crawled in on his side. It took a fair bit of restraint not to smile when the younger man’s arms went around her waist and his cheek settled against one of her hips. She didn’t know how long the three of them lay nestled together like that before she was being stirred awake by the sensation of soft kisses on her belly. Fingertips brushed up the inside of her thigh and back down again, making her squirm and twist to look down at Anakin.

“ _Cyar’ika?_ ” Reaching, the brunette raked her fingers through his hair and whimpered when he nipped at the dip of her waist.

“Didn’t peg you as a voyeur, sweetness,” blue eyes flicked up to meet hers as a wide grin spread across his lips. The fingers trailing along her thigh skimmed higher and swept slowly over the damp heat of her pussy. A brow quirked high on Anakin’s forehead and he muffled a growl against her skin, slipping his fingers deeper. “What would Master Kenobi say if he knew how filthy his _darling girl_ really is?”

“ _Anakin_ ,” it wasn’t a protest. Far from it, actually. Iza even parted her thighs further for him as if to reassure him that she had no intention of making him stop _at all_. It always surprised her whenever he played into her games with Obi-Wan, though. He never seemed to call Obi-Wan _Master Kenobi_ unless Iza was involved. It was always just _Master_ or _Master Obi-Wan_. But when a game was going on—or if Obi-Wan was just in _that mood_ —Anakin was quick to fall in line and often took up a role of secondary master to the brunette, which she didn’t hate. The power balance between them was even, most of the time, but Iza and Anakin enjoyed playing around and switching up the dominant role. When Obi-Wan was involved, _he_ was the only one in charge and they liked it that way.

“Does he already know?” Sinking his fingers to the knuckle, Anakin pumped slowly and dipped his head to plant kisses over her stomach again. “Or should we wake him up and show him?”

“Don’t…” it was a damn chore to keep her voice down. She’d made a dumb mistake plopping her head in the middle of Obi-Wan’s chest like this, too. “ _Don’t wake him up._ ”

“ ** _Oh_** _,_ ” Anakin looked up at her again and pressed his fingers as deep as he could get them, grinning wickedly. “I think I should…”

“We can’t play if you wake him, Master Skywalker,” twisting a piece of Anakin’s hair around a finger, Iza gave it a tug and watched as his expression became damn-near feral. _Oh_ —she knew good and well the _Master_ button worked on him too. Perhaps not in quite the same manner, but Anakin sure as hell loved to hear it. “Please don’t wake him,”

Withdrawing his fingers, Anakin popped them between his lips to noisily suck them clean before he snatched her about the waist and dragged her down the bed beside him. Iza had to cover her mouth with the back of her hand to keep from yelling in surprise, gasping sharply when Anakin knocked it away and planted his palm over her lips instead. It felt _incredibly_ intimidating to have him crawl over her and loom like that. Especially with the dark look in his eyes and the bunched way he was holding his shoulders. Something about it just made her feel as though she were about to be devoured by some violent animal. It was far more thrilling than it ought to have been, honestly. Keeping his hand clamped over her mouth, Anakin used his free one to take hold of her wrist and bring her hand to his hips, gesturing at his sleeping trousers. Nodding, Iza leaned up in order to reach and started tugging them down, letting out soft little noises behind his palm when he kissed at her shoulder. When his trousers were down far enough, Anakin pushed her back to the mattress and hummed quietly as he tucked himself between her knees.

“Can you stay quiet for me, sweetness?” he eased his palm off of her mouth and tapped two fingers against her bottom lip, smiling when she opened up for him and let him slide them over her tongue. “I haven’t had you all day. I’m not going to be gentle.”

Iza nearly argued that he’d had her earlier in the afternoon until she remembered that—no, he had not. Closing her lips around the fingers in her mouth, she sucked greedily and gave a slow nod of her head, unable to fight the smile that followed the kiss he pressed to her forehead. She heard him murmur something about her being a _good girl_ and suddenly found herself being filled with his cock. The brunette did her best to muffle the moan that followed the sensation, staring at Anakin with wide eyes as he flashed one of his wicked grins down at her.

“I’m sorry,” he drew out and pressed back in hard enough to nudge her hips up from the bed a little. “Did you need more time?”

She shook her head, tilting it back with a stifled groan as he ground his hips into her. Staying quiet was not going to be easy at all if he kept this shit up. At least when Catcher wanted to play this game, he gave her a fighting chance. Anakin wanted to push all the good buttons at once and then tell her she wasn’t allowed to make noise. He kept his promise of not being gentle, fucking into her as hard as he could without jolting the mattress and waking Obi-Wan. The older man seemed to sleep quite peacefully beside them, though Iza was almost _positive_ he was faking. Anakin didn’t seem to care one way or the other. His mouth was wet and hot on her chest, teeth sharp as they nipped a line between her breasts before he closed his lips over a nipple and sucked hungrily. Iza pawed at him, dragging her fingers through his hair and letting out soft mewls around the fingers he still had stuffed in her mouth. Anakin’s blue eyes watched her as he sucked in slow, hard pulls and then switched to her other breast, gently biting the tight peak before drawing it into his mouth. When it became clear that _staying quiet_ was becoming difficult for the older woman, Anakin picked his head up with a hum and studied her.

Iza nearly protested when he withdrew his fingers from her mouth, watching as he slipped the hand between their bodies and press-rubbed the saliva-slick pads of his fingers against her clit. The back of her wrist was quickly pressed to her mouth to muffle the moan that followed and she swore she thought she saw him grinning before leather-clad fingers were sliding around the column of her neck and squeezing tight.

“I still think we should wake Master Kenobi,” he tightened his hold—counted to fifteen under his breath—and eased back, rubbing the pad of his thumb against the pulse banging against the side of her neck. “He needs to know what a filthy girl you are.”

“No,” Iza shook her head and held her breath to stop a heavy moan from leaving her throat. She was going to pass out; between trying to stifle all of the sounds she was making and the way Anakin was squeezing her neck, she was going to black out before she fully peaked. “Please, don’t wake him, Master Skywalker,”

“He should know,” Anakin picked up the pace of his hips and lifted his hand long enough to wet the tips of his fingers again before returning them to her clit. “He should _see_ the kind of mess you make when you’ve been watching him fuck me.”

“Master Sky—”

“Is that what you want, sweetness?” Leaning over her, Anakin gripped the underside of her jaw tightly and dipped his head to bite her chin. “Do you want to watch him fuck me? Listen to him _praise_ me with all the sweet things you think he saves just for you? Would you like to see which one of us _really_ belongs to him, Iza?”

Iza wasn’t entirely sure how she felt, suddenly. It was a game. It was only a game. Wasn’t it? The two of them often taunted one another with such words when the mood struck, so this wasn’t out of the ordinary. But for some odd reason, hearing Anakin say this _now_ put such an odd feeling in her chest that Iza didn’t know how to respond. At first, it didn’t seem as though Anakin noticed anything amiss. He kept his playful look of intimidation on his face while Iza stared up at him and tried to process what he’d said without letting her real feelings interfere. _It was a game_.

“Iza?” Anakin stopped mid-stroke and the hand on her jaw moved to brush her cheek instead. “Sweetness, can you check in?”

“I…” she couldn’t just stop because her head had latched onto his words and taken them seriously. It would be unfair to him if she didn’t at least let him finish. “ _Cin_.”

The younger man eyed her for a long time and then bowed his head, kissing her sweetly.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said softly, stealing more gentle kisses. “I’m sorry sweetness. It’s not a competition. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s a game,” she would just need to keep telling herself that so that she could get the cold feeling out of the pit of her stomach. “I know how you meant it.”

“I forget you’re not possessive the same way I am,” nuzzling his nose over hers, Anakin sighed. “It’s not going to do the same for you as it would for me.”

“It’s all right, _cyar’ika_ ,” bringing her arms up, Iza wound them around his shoulders and pulled him down to kiss the side of his head. “You can still finish, my love.”

“We will finish,” he snorted and nudged his hips into hers, drawing a gasp from her. “You must continue to be a good girl for me and stay quiet. Can you do that?”

“I can,” Iza nodded, smiling gleefully when Anakin drew back and slid his fingers around her throat again. “I’ll be the _best girl_ for you, Master Skywalker.”

“That’s exactly what I want to hear, sweetness.”

~*~*~*~

“What in blazes are you doing awake?”

Iza looked up from the corner of the sofa to watch Obi-Wan shuffle his way towards the kitchen. Shrugging a shoulder, she reached for the tepid mug of caf beside her and dipped her hand into the box of sweesonberry rolls beside it. She’d lost count after eating the fourth one, but intended to save both Catcher and Obi-Wan at least _one_ apiece.

“Can’t shut my brain off,” she mumbled, biting into the pastry.

“Have you gotten _any_ sleep?”

“Some,” she’d managed to nap after getting off with Anakin, but that was hours ago. The sun would be coming up soon. She fully intended to watch it rise over the ocean. Glancing up again when he strolled over, Iza grunted when Obi-Wan plucked the pastry from her fingers and took a bite from the opposite end before he sat down beside her on the sofa. He eyed her while he chewed, reaching to brush his thumb against her lower lip to sweep away a bit of frosting there. When he’d finished his bite he hummed and shifted closer, lazily draping his arm around her to pull her snug against his side.

“What’s wrong, my darling?” He guided the hand holding the sweesonberry roll to his mouth and took another bite, grinning at the sour face she made in response. “Do not pinch your mouth at me. I am the one who gifted these sweets to you.”

“I am very grateful for them, my Obi-Wan,” leaning up, she licked the spot on his beard where a bit of icing had been smudged. “It is, however, _impolite_ to take without asking.”

“I am not _taking_ , you are _sharing_.” He really should have tapped her nose for her cheekiness. He was just far too tired to keep up with games for the time being. “Now—out with it. What has you up so early?”

“It’s silly,” looking away from him, Iza plucked a piece of the pastry off and popped it into her mouth. “It’s not important. My head has just decided to be mean to me again. It will go away.”

“Mm,” winding his arms around her, Obi-Wan pulled her into his lap and rested his chin on her shoulder. “What have I said about downplaying these things, darling?”

“Obi-Wan, this isn’t—”

“What have I said?”

“That if something is causing me enough distress to disrupt my routine, then it _is_ important and ought to be addressed, especially now.” Iza sighed and shook her head, moving to pull off another piece of the pastry. “But _honestly_ , this is silly. I don’t even know why it’s bothering me. It’s stupid.”

“What is it, darling?”

She hesitated. In her head, it sounded so juvenile to be worked up over the dumb things Anakin had said while they were fucking. They’d ended on a positive note, so why did it bother her so much anyway? It wasn’t like it was _true_. It was all just filth and fodder to be thrown out in the heat of the moment, meant to get a rise out of her. There was no real _truth_ behind it. Even if there were, Anakin would not say such things in a cruel manner. He just wouldn’t. _Right?_ Turning her eyes towards the large window overlooking the beach, Iza wondered briefly how long it would be until the sun started peeking out over the horizon. The nudge to her side made her flinch and drop her gaze to the floor.

“I saw you and Anakin earlier,” she said it nonchalantly and waved her hand dismissively. She needed him to know she _honestly_ didn’t care. At least, not in the way he probably expected her to. “I was not asleep when you got back in bed. Anakin and I… took advantage of it. But he said some things—I know it was meant to be part of the game— _I know it_. I just can’t get them out of my head and… it’s making things… fuzzy again.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” long fingers slid deep into Iza’s dark hair before Obi-Wan urged her to look over at him, his still-gold hued eyes soft and kind. “What did he say?”

“Filth.”

“ _Iza_.”

“ _Would you like to see which one of us really belongs to him?_ ” Iza said it so dully and quietly that she wasn’t sure she said it out loud at all. She wouldn’t look him in the eye when she said it, either. There was something about the words that just felt _gross_. She couldn’t explain it other than she felt scandalized by the mere idea that anyone belonged to Obi-Wan besides _her_. She understood good and well that he and Anakin had a _special_ kind of relationship and that the relationship had been brewing for quite some time, but Iza had fully handed herself over to this man without hesitation the first damn day of the assignment that brought the trio together. She loved Anakin. He held a whole piece of her heart and soul all to himself. Catcher did as well. Perhaps his piece was a little disproportionate in comparison. But it was Obi-Wan who truly— _truly_ ruled over her. And that was how she wanted it.

“My darling girl,” his fingers slid beneath her chin to nudge her into looking at him, a soft tut following when she refused. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to her forehead with a sigh and tried not to snort. “You are a terribly jealous thing. Such a needy little brat, too.”

“I pledged myself to you,” Iza whispered, leaning into his chest. “I said you could have anything you wanted and I gave it to you. I gave you _everything_ first.”

“Darling, this is not a contest.”

“You misunderstand,” resting her forehead to his, the brunette pouted and brushed her fingertip through his beard. “I know very well the love you have for Anakin and myself is equal. That is not what is bothering me.”

“I feel as though I know very well what it is that is bothering you, my dear,” giving a crooked smile, Obi-Wan shook his head. “But clarification is always nice.”

“I do not want to feel like second place.” Iza felt horrible as she said it, but there was also a strange fire in her gut burning alongside the guilt. She knew where she stood and where she felt she belonged. Anakin may have earned his place but dammit, so had she. She would not be made to feel like she was anything less than his equal—but she’d prefer to know she was the _favorite_.

“You,” Obi-Wan seemed unable to keep from smiling as he leaned back from her and tapped a fingertip against the end of her nose. “Are allowing this to go to your head.”

“I can’t help it,” her breathing felt a little erratic as she tried to keep her gaze as level with his as possible. Iza’s fingers had taken to fidgeting with the strings on Obi-Wan’s sleeping trousers. He still smiled as calm and gently as ever.

“Anakin’s words are just _words_ , my darling girl.”

“I do not want to hear you praise him with words meant for me.” Iza’s bottom lip jutted out in a bitter little pout before her eyes fell to where her hands were. It was so dumb and childish. She had no right getting this worked up over something that was—at the very base— _just a game_. This feeling she had that she’d _literally_ signed herself over to Obi-Wan was all just part of the relationship. It was a long running _game_ that they’d been playing from the very beginning. But sometimes— _sometimes_ she simply **forgot**.

“You are ridiculous, darling,”

The brunette’s face screwed lightly and her jaw wobbled. Pulling at the strings, she dropped her hands with a huff and bowed her head. She knew. She knew how stupid this whole thing was. But if it was so stupid and ridiculous and childish, why the _hell_ did it bother her so much?

“Look at you,” sitting up with an irritated sounding sigh, Obi-Wan cupped Iza’s face in his palms and swept his thumbs over her cheeks a few times. “Why are you crying? Surely Anakin’s silliness has not upset you this much.”

“I would give you anything you asked for,” she really tried to keep her voice steady, though she half-refused to look at him. “And you cannot give me a simple answer?”

“What would you like me to say?” He rubbed her tears into her skin and raised an eyebrow. “I am not going to lie to stop your tears, darling.”

“So I _am_ second place?”

“Ah— _see_ ,” waving a finger with a dry, humorless laugh Obi-Wan shook his head. “That is exactly why I do not wish to discuss this. Someone will have their feelings hurt. You have decided to rank yourself and that simply is not my method, my sweet.”

“I _deserve_ to be first.” Iza pouted so hard that it looked painful. “I have done things for you that Anakin would _never_ —and without you needing to _ask_. I _serve_ you as well as love you. I would not willingly put myself through hell the way that I do for you, for anyone else.”

“What have we discussed about guilt trips?”

“I refuse to continue obeying the commands and heeding _guidance_ of a man who thinks of me as _second place_.” Stubbornly, Iza turned away from him and started reaching for one of the sweesonberry rolls to shove into her mouth. Outside, the sun was starting to rise over the ocean. She’d missed the sky as it started streaking pink and purple, but she watched it now as brilliant oranges and yellows began to blend into the mix. She probably should have expected the hand that grasped the back of her neck and gripped tight enough to make her gasp and drop the pastry onto the floor.

“Care to repeat that?” Obi-Wan asked in a deceptively gentle tone. Iza whimpered and took a deep breath, flicking her gaze to meet his.

“I… refuse…” his hold on the back of her neck tightened, but she wouldn’t crack. “…to obey you or heed your advice if all I am is second place.”

“Mm,” he tipped his head and studied her before releasing her with a shrug. “Very well. I’ll be cancelling our trip. I shall go on my own and you may stay here with Catcher and Anakin until I return and we must go to Serenno.”

“What?” Iza had been in the middle of grabbing the roll off of the floor when he spoke and she nearly fell from the sofa trying to turn and look at him.

“If you will not obey me during a trip _meant_ for this sort of thing,” he shrugged and turned his hands up. “There is no reason for you to tag along.”

“You said the trip was for _us._ As a pair.”

“I also said we would be playing a game, but since you no longer wish to partake—”

“I did not— _that’s not fair_.”

“I believe it’s very fair, my girl,” Obi-Wan gave her a nonchalant look and settled back into the sofa. “The game has ended. We will no longer play such things if you cannot control your jealousy.”

Iza looked as though he’d just ripped the entire universe from her hands. Numbly, she sank against the arm of the sofa and just stared at him for a long time while the sunlight began filling the room inch by inch. Eventually, she turned to look out the window, though she really didn’t _look_ at anything. Her head was doing that strange _buzzing_ thing again. Like she’d been up for three days straight on a caf binge. She half expected to start hearing the whispers again as that cold feeling began creeping up her spine and seeping into her core. Her head twitched. For the first time since Nal Hutta, her head flinched hard enough to jolt her body and cause her to grunt in annoyance. She felt warm fingers on her back and twisted away from them, getting to her feet with the intention of walking away.

“Darling, is it really that important?”

She halted— _twitched_ —and spared him a glance over her shoulder. Obi-Wan looked genuinely concerned and she wasn’t sure if it was because she’d deteriorated so rapidly or if there was something else troubling him. The buzzing in her brain wouldn’t allow her to think properly enough to try and come up with an idea of what else could be bothering the older man, but she was sure there could be _something_. Twisting the sleeve of the borrowed tunic between her fingers, the brunette slowly began to nod, her eyes drifting elsewhere. Of course it was _that_ important. Why wouldn’t it be important to feel as though she were the favorite? She did not expect him to love her more or care for her more than he cared for Anakin. She just had an incessant _need_ for him to make her feel more worthy of his time and attention. It was pathetic; she knew it. She also didn’t _care_. These games had ruined her.

“Come here,”

Iza obeyed mindlessly. Without stopping to think about her declaration of never obeying him again, she turned on her heel and padded back over to him with no hesitation at all. Crawling onto his lap, she sat poised and pretty like a good girl and leaned into the brush of knuckles that swept down the side of her face.

“You are _ridiculous_ , my darling,” Obi-Wan caught her chin in his fingers and pulled her down to level their gazes. He said nothing for a long, long while and Iza could feel the buzz in her head beginning to clear. The chill that had filled her body subsided and that irritating twitch no longer haunted her either. When he finally smiled and gave a satisfied hum, the brunette started to raise a questioning brow and was interrupted by him pulling her in to press their foreheads together. “Do you really feel like second place?”

“At times,” it was not an easy confession to make, but he’d asked and she didn’t like lying to him. “Not always.”

“With all of the attention I give to you, all of the time I spend with you, all of the space I’ve taken up within you—you feel this way?” He tilted his head, genuinely curious.

“Sometimes,” she shrugged, glancing down briefly. “I can’t help it. Ever since the first night on Pohrell, I just…”

“Darling we did not even get along on Pohrell until—”

“You don’t understand,” Iza gave a pained look and fidgeted. “You _know_ I harbored feelings for you when I was younger. To have you look at me the way you did—that was something I’d wanted for _years_. But I… everything was so confusing at first. Between Catcher and Anakin and not knowing how to handle _you_ —it was a lot. But when we were alone— _truly alone_ —I knew. I just wanted to be _yours_ , whatever that meant at the time. Now, I wanna be _first_.”

“Iza my sweet, may I tell you a secret?” He smiled at her as he pulled her closer, arms sliding around her waist. When she nodded and began playing with a few stray bits of his hair, Obi-Wan kissed the end of her chin and trailed more of them along her jaw. “I do not believe in _ranking_. I find it childish and unfair when the competing parties ought not to be pit against one another in the first place. But you—you are _my darling girl_. That puts you in a place no one else can even think to touch. Even Anakin’s silly words cannot reach you there. You are very devoted, my dear, and I am so damn appreciative of you for it. Just remember that, before _this_ —before _Master Kenobi_ — ** _I’m_** the one who loves you, darling.”

“I love _you_ ,” Iza nudged her forehead into his affectionately, shutting her eyes. “I don’t want it to sound as though—”

“I understand how you meant for it to sound. I understand this _obsession_ you have with being a prized… what _should_ I call you, darling? You despise the word _pet_.”

“Submissive? I don’t… I’m not sure.”

“Mm,” he wrinkled his nose in distaste. “I do not enjoy that word when it is not being used for explanatory purposes. Do not suggest the other _S_ word either. You will wake Anakin. I swear he knows when someone even _thinks_ that word sometimes.” Letting out a quiet snort, Obi-Wan damn near rolled his eyes. “Let’s just say I understand your obsession with being some kind of _prize_ in my eye. Is that better?”

“Is _obsession_ the right word?”

“ _My girl_ ,” giving her a look, the older man playfully chucked her under the chin and laughed. “Please tell me what word you would use after revisiting what just happened over the last half-hour. I will wait.”

“It is not… that is a very strong… I’m not _obsessed_ …” It didn’t matter how many times Iza tried to start the argument, she just couldn’t finish it. “I _enjoy_ giving you all the control.”

“As you’ve said,” sighing, Obi-Wan thumbed her chin and smiled. “You must remember to keep a sliver for yourself, my darling.”

“I _do_.”

“ _You certainly do_.” He made a face, grunting when she gave a pinch to his side. Eyeing her, he pinched back and fought back a grin when she squealed and tried to bury her face in his chest. “You’re going to wake the others.”

“Perhaps you should shut me up.” Iza made a bratty face at him and gave him another pinch, rolling off before he could retaliate. She barely got to the other side of the couch when he snagged her ankle and dragged her back, giving her a look while she tried to pull the hem of the tunic back down over her hips. “ _Obi-Wan!_ ”

“Mm, there’s an idea,” holding a finger up, he twisted to get into the box of sweesonberry rolls and turned back to her, holding the pastry up. “I’m going to put this in your mouth and you’re going to eat it. At the same time I’m going to put _you_ in my mouth and eat _you_ until you’ve finished with it. I advise eating _slowly_ —and do take care not to choke.”


	7. Kiss and Control

Iza was uncomfortable as hell. She and Obi-Wan had been on the ship heading for their little _trip_ destination for about two days now and already, she wanted to quit. Maybe it was the suffocating feeling of the almost military style uniform he’d given her to wear that had her feeling such discomfort. Or maybe it was the fact that he’d added a sinful little _novelty accessory_ to the outfit that he seemed to enjoy activating at random moments for anywhere between a few seconds and several whole minutes. The first time he’d done it, they’d still been in the hangar saying their goodbyes. She’d moved in to give Anakin a parting embrace when the sudden buzzing sensation between her thighs startled her and she’d shouted loud enough to draw the attention of the clones milling around the place. Anakin had been concerned until they heard Obi-Wan muttering something about being glad that the power cell worked. After that, the younger man seemed unable to do more than offer his cheeky condolences to her for being trapped with The Bastard while he was in possession of such a toy.

Really, it might not have been so terrible if he’d let it run long enough or allow her to touch herself. But those things were against the rules. There’d been _a lot_ of rules added once they’d left Odran’oel. Iza felt lucky to be able to breathe near him at this point. She could not speak unless he spoke first, _had_ to adhere to the dress code regardless of whatever it was he set out for her, and—for the time they spent on the ship—she’d been given a temporary bedroll on the floor beside the bed to sleep in. She had no idea where she’d sleep when they got to where they were going, but she doubted it’d be anywhere near him. Obi-Wan didn’t seem to want her within reaching distance at any given time. It was a strange feeling to know that the man she traveled with loved her so dearly, but wished to treat her as nothing but an acquaintance.

The first night had been the hardest. Obi-Wan had gotten her worked up into a fine, trembling mess with his filthy words and the lovely little buzzy toy. And then he’d just left her, waiting and wanting on the bedroll while he worked himself off without a spare thought for her. He hadn’t even demanded that she let him use her mouth to finish. He’d just sort of swung his legs off the bed, gave that distinctive snarl of his, and _wasted_ it by letting it fall in little streaks across her belly and chest. He’d looked at her for a moment and then shrugged before crawling into the bed, sleepily reminding her that she was not to touch what was _his_. Iza did not sleep. The floor was hard and she felt lonely without Anakin to snuggle up next to. She also felt _conflicted_. She’d known this game would be different than anything else they’d ever played before. Perhaps she should have prepared herself for this behavior? But he had given her no warning other than they would not be intimate and she would be left to _want_ until he felt generous enough to relieve her. There’d been no hint that he would take up a less-severe version of the man she knew on Serenno.

“You should shower,”

Glancing up from where she sat staring out at the swirls of hyperspace, Iza tried to clear the haze from her head and looked him in the eye like she’d been instructed to.

“What?”

He gave her a look. That should have been enough warning before the vibrations started on high, making her sit upright in her seat and clamp her lips shut to stifle the whimpers rising in her throat. Another one of his rules— _no noises_. She saw the blue glow of the device in his hand, saw his thumb idly tapping the side of it as though he were counting. Then the dial was flicked and the buzzing quickened. Iza couldn’t breathe. Even the tiniest of breaths made whimpers and whines escape and she did _not_ want to find out what any of Obi-Wan’s punishments might be if she disobeyed his commands. Above her, she heard him grunt and felt relief flood her as he lowered the speed to a dull hum. _This_ she could handle.

“What have I said, darling?”

“Always address you properly, sir,” her head was so light and fuzzy and it was taking all she had not to squirm just right against the stupid toy. He’d be _upset_ if she got off.

“And what did you just do?”

“I disobeyed, sir,” she hadn’t been able to help it. Watching hyperspace always put her in such a weird state of mind that she sometimes forgot she was a _person_ if she did it for too long. “I apologize, Master Kenobi.”

“Mm,” he eyed her again and then the device shut off. “You are to shower and change. We will arrive at our destination soon, my dear.”

“I showered just this morning, sir,” she’d had to. Iza could sleep with cum on her skin but she had a distinct feeling he’d be upset if she got any of it on the clothes he set out for her. Watching as his brow began to lift, Iza sat up straighter and put her hands in her lap. “But I will do it again if it will please you, my master,”

“When I tell you to do something,” the hand that came up to grip her chin was far from gentle. “You are to _do it_. Argue against me and I will have all of the fun without you. Understand?”

“Yes master,” Iza nodded as much as she could and got a quick pat to the cheek in return.

“Good girl. Now—disrobe and stand here so I may remove your little _toy_. The power cell needs charging.”

“Yes master,” getting to her feet, Iza tried not to look eager to be rid of the ugly gray uniform as she began removing it, taking care to fold each piece as she set it aside so Obi-Wan would not find reason to scold her.

“Give me those,” he gestured when she’d peeled her panties down over her thighs and after staring at him for a moment, Iza shimmied out of them the rest of the way and handed them over. She watched him while he brushed his thumb against the crotch, watched how high his brow climbed on his forehead, and almost snorted when he _hmm’d_ and tucked the delicate wad of fabric into his pocket. His eyes shifted to hers and his expression became expectant before he pointed to a spot in front of him where she was meant to stand. Stepping up, Iza kept her back straight and her eyes pointed on him like she was supposed to, waiting while he looked her over silently. Another light grunt rumbled in his chest before he tentatively reached and ran a finger along the inside of one of her thighs, tapping it sharply. “ _Open_ ,”

Iza shifted her stance to part her legs for him, stifling the soft whine that tried to bubble up when he stepped closer and dragged the tips of his fingers along her skin. He didn’t say anything as he watched her face and palmed her, sliding a single finger inside of her with a low whistle.

“You are **_wet_** , darling. Is it even still inside of you?” he hummed thoughtfully as he pretended to search and then eventually eased his finger around the little oval-shaped device and carefully slid it free, a wicked sort of grin lifting the corner of his lips as he set it aside and sank two fingers back into her. Bringing a hand to her mouth to smother another whimper, Iza fought to keep eye contact even when he found his favorite spot inside of her to tease. She would not last. He had to know this. If he kept looking at her with such wickedness in his eye and plying that spot with his fingers, she would break. She was teetering on the knife’s edge, desperately trying to hold off while her body tensed and twitched and shook with need for release. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t hold it. She was gonna— “That’s enough.”

She didn’t know if she was grateful or outraged that he stopped. At least now she wouldn’t feel guilty for having ruined the game before it had even truly begun.

“ _Mouth_ ,”

Iza didn’t question the command. Her lips fell open and her tongue pushed out lightly and she waited, not knowing what the hell it was he could want while she was still standing. The sudden invasion of fingers that tasted like her own arousal startled her, but she would not object. She sucked and licked and laved until the only thing left on his fingers was the taste of his skin. She nearly whined when he pulled them from her mouth, barely remembering to stand straight like she was supposed to once he took a step back from her and tucked his hands behind his back.

“Go clean up,” he nodded in the direction of the shower. “I will have your things ready in the bedroom. You know the rules, my dear. _No funny business._ ”

~*~*~*~

 _Surely_ he was joking. Iza had emerged from the shower to find something akin to her old Jedi robes set out on the bed. He had even set her lightsaber out, something he had not allowed her to freely have since she’d started her lessons with Tyranus and her mind had become so unstable. The brunette could not think of a single reason he might set these clothes out for her if they were finally going to reach their destination. This was a _vacation_ , was it not? She understood well enough that they were playing a silly game along with it but what the _hell_ did he find attractive about a bunch of layers of beige linen?

“You’re dawdling.”

Iza jumped a mile and covered her mouth to smother the swear that followed. She was almost sure he’d heard her when he sidled up beside her and peered over her shoulder. He didn’t touch her, but she could feel the heat radiating off of his body and smell that lovely mix of his linen soap and salty ocean air on his clothes. When he could not see what it was she was staring at so hard, he turned his head to look at her and raised an eyebrow.

“Something wrong?”

“No sir,” she shook her head.

“Are you displeased with my choice of attire for you, darling?”

“No sir,”

“Mm,” he straightened and eyed her before giving a strong smack to her backside. “Lie to me again, my dear, and you will not be able to sit for the duration of our trip.”

“Yes sir. I’m sorry sir,” _well_ , she hadn’t wanted to get in trouble for saying she didn’t want to wear the robes, but now she was in trouble for _lying_ about it. Honesty was always the best policy with Obi-Wan until she said something he didn’t like and she had a feeling she might’ve been swatted for either of her answers.

“What are the rules?”

“I wear what you want me to wear, sir,”

“And?”

“And I will not make complaints, sir,”

“Tell me why you do not approve of what I have set out for you,” stepping away from her, Obi-Wan kept his hands tucked behind his back and eyed her warily.

“I do not disapprove, my master,” she hoped this didn’t count as arguing against him. “I am just confused, sir,”

“Confused?”

“Would you not like to see me in something…” Iza cast a look at the robes and then back at him. “…prettier, sir?”

An odd look crossed his face then, like he was silently mulling something over. Iza wished she knew what he was thinking. She wished she was allowed to creep across their bond and _peek_. But she’d promised to keep to herself while they played the game. It wasn’t easy, truly.

“Do you think you deserve to wear something prettier?” He tipped his head curiously. “I don’t. I think you should be grateful that I have not given you more gray things to wear.”

“I am grateful, master—”

“You sound _spoiled_ to me.”

“Master Kenobi,” Iza didn’t know what to do. At home the soft, pouty little girl act seemed to work best on him. But that was not allowed here. She could not allow the ache in her chest to make its home there and produce tears that would get her into more trouble. He wanted absolute obedience. He wanted discipline. He would not settle for a pouty face and a whine. He looked so disappointed as he stared at her, the shimmer in his gold-hued eyes almost completely gone. It hurt her to look at him and Iza felt that twisted urge inside of her that begged her to do whatever it was he wanted to bring back his adoring expression again. She loved it so much when he was happy with her. The floor was cold and unforgiving to her knees when she dropped to them, her eyes staying as level with his as she could manage to keep them. She didn’t dare move from her spot, but the brunette sat up as straight as she could and kept her hands pressed firmly against the tops of her thighs. “Forgive me, Master Kenobi,”

“For what?”

“For being such a spoiled brat, sir,”

“ _Here_ ,” he pointed to the spot in front of him and Iza wasted no time crawling over to claim it, looking up at him patiently while he half-scowled down at her. “Say it again.”

“Please forgive me for being a spoiled brat, Master Kenobi,” Iza figured it couldn’t _hurt_ to throw in a look of innocence as she said it. It was subtle and she _swore_ she saw his mustache twitch like he was trying not to smile.

“You will wear the robes,” reaching out, Obi-Wan threaded his fingers through her hair. Pausing, he found a lock behind her ear and gave it a tug. “Braid this. _Neatly_. I do not tolerate unkempt braids.”

“Yes sir,” the brunette wasn’t sure if she was _supposed_ to feel as antsy as she suddenly did as the realization of what he had silently planned began washing over her—but _boy_ , she almost couldn’t wait to get him out of the room so she could get into the stupid robes now. It felt like such a _vile_ thing to be excited over, knowing he intended to parade her around as his _Padawan_. He was playing into one of her fantasies, she realized, and the thought almost had her swooning and affectionately nuzzling her face into his hip. She did nothing of the sort, of course. Iza simply stayed in her place and hoped he could feel her soft gratitude for the game radiating off of her in waves.

“Stand up and part your legs for me,”

Getting to her feet, Iza did as she was told and watched while he fussed with the little egg-shaped toy. She heard him hum and felt him slip his free hand between her thighs, biting her tongue to keep from moaning as his fingers began stroking slowly over her clit.

“What color are the stars tonight, darling?” His tone had shifted to something softer, _warmer_ —something that sounded more like _Obi-Wan_ than Master Kenobi. It took her a minute to remember that this was his _checking in_ phrase. It was such a _strange_ phrase, but it was meant to be. It had to be something that would take her out of a particular mindset and bring her back to where she needed to be— _if need be_ —so that he could communicate with her easily. The color codes were all the same, thankfully.

“ _Cin_ ,” she did her best to smother the whimper that followed, but he’d turned the stupid little egg on and was gliding it in wickedly slow passes against her flesh. His brow quirked and he held the toy against her clit, turning the vibrations up with the control device in his other hand.

“I’m sorry my dear,” he spoke louder as though the buzzing was deafening his ears. “I didn’t quite hear you…”

“ _Cin_ ,” she couldn’t keep her knees from shaking so hard. He’d brushed the damn thing up against some awfully sensitive spot and her body didn’t know how to handle it. “Master— _Master Kenobi_ ,”

“You better not,” he turned the dial higher and pressed it harder against her clit. “I will turn this ship around and go home if you even _think_ about it, darling.”

“ _Master Kenobi—_ ” Iza was cut off when he slipped the buzzing device up inside of her, pushing it in as far as it would safely go and abandoning her to the new sensations that it caused.

“ _Do not_ ,” his lips brushed her ear, teeth catching the edge as he gave her clit a few light strums with the pad of his thumb. “Hold onto it, darling. I would hate for you to miss out on being _my Padawan_.”

Iza steeled herself in the same manner she usually did when she was being subjected to one of Tyranus’ torture techniques. Her mind flickered out and with it went her ability to feel or care about anything she was feeling in the moment. She focused on the idea of getting to play the part he offered and forced everything out of her head until nothing else seemed to matter. There was only one goal: _be his Padawan_. She didn’t notice when he stopped teasing with his fingers or when he’d shut the device off, but she felt the hard grasp of his hand against her jaw and the little jolt of him attempting to shake her back to the present.

“ _What color are the stars tonight, Iza?_ ” He sounded almost _worried_.

“ _Cin_.” It took a moment for her eyes to regain the focus they’d had before and she could feel her body twitching and thrumming with the desperate need for orgasm, but _thankfully_ —it seemed as though she’d been able to stave it off again. She was getting better at this.

“Look at me,” his demand pulled her gaze instantly and he frowned at her hard, waving his finger at her. “Whatever you just did— _do not do it again_.”

Iza knew she probably looked confused. Had he not witnessed her do that a hundred times over on Serenno? Hell, she sometimes did it when she was made to endure one of _his_ physical punishments. It was just a trick for her mind to separate itself from her body. It was harmless.

“None of your innocent looks,” he shook his head and frowned harder. “We discussed this. Neither of us are to use the Force—”

“But I didn’t. Master Kenobi, I did not use the Force.”

He eyed her for a long time before he stepped away from her and started for the door.

“Master?”

He had the control device in his hand. She could see his thumb tapping the little screen. It was all the warning she got before the toy turned on again at near full-power and almost made her double over onto the bed.

“I have told you not to argue against me, darling,” Obi-Wan continued towards the door, sighing heavily. “Get dressed. Do not try your little _trick_ again.”

“ _Master please, I’m sorry_ ,” dropping to her knees had not been a choice this time. Iza was so close to losing control of herself that she feared what would happen when she did. She felt pitiful as she crawled across the floor—stopping occasionally to squeeze her thighs together and try to stop the sensation from building—and felt even worse when she took hold of his ankle and bowed forward until her forehead touched the toes of his boots. It was so sad and pathetic for her to silently beg him to shut the thing off like this, but Iza could not bring herself to even entertain the idea of what might happen if she allowed her body the release it wanted before Master Kenobi said she could have it. As she twitched and writhed beside where he stood, grasping his ankle and trying not to whimper into his boots, Iza wondered if she was _supposed_ to feel this terrified. Not of him; Obi-Wan didn’t frighten her too terribly unless he was in the headspace he got locked in on Serenno. But the situation scared her. Any little slip-up and he could take all of this away from her, and who knew if he’d ever offer it again? That thought put even more fear into her and Iza tried her best to still her entire form and even out her breathing. “ _Please, I’m sorry, sir_ ,”

The device shut off. Iza almost cried in relief, pressing her face against the surface of Obi-Wan’s boots as the rest of her went lax. It was not comfortable. It likely looked just as pathetic as she felt. She felt him shifting around above her and felt gentle fingers tangling in her hair before a huff of breath fanned out over her bare back.

“Get dressed. Braid your hair. I will return once we’ve left hyperspace.”

“Yes master,” she murmured against his boots.

“Look at me when you speak,”

Iza picked her head up knowing full well that she was probably flushed and sweaty and that her eyes were full of tears that would remain uncried for as long as she could hold them in. But she held his gaze steadily and was careful not to give in to the temptation of the brush of his knuckles as he ran them down her cheek.

“No panties,” he said it with such a straight face that Iza wasn’t entirely positive he’d said it at all at first. “You will let the entire universe see how your master makes you feel— _my dear Padawan_.”

“Yes sir,” _fuck_ , if she hadn’t been fighting so hard not to come, those words might’ve just kicked her off with no effort at all. Iza did not know or understand _why_ she enjoyed the idea of this so much but _man_ —she was glad he was on board for it.

“Good girl,” he tapped the end of her nose and straightened, offering a hand to help her up and stepping away once she was on her feet again. “Enough dawdling. Get ready.”

“Yes sir.”

“Remember what I said,” he shot her a look as he paused in the doorway. “ _I do not tolerate unkempt braids_.”

~*~*~*~

It felt _odd_ being back in Jedi robes. Iza had not worn a full set since before the war had started and she’d almost completely forgotten which layers needed to go where. It didn’t help much that Obi-Wan had chosen the most conservative looking pattern as well. The beige color was not so terrible, but the high collared tunic and long flowing sleeves were a fucking nightmare after she’d spent so much time wearing sleek military blacks and borrowed tunics with cut necks. It was also ridiculously hot beneath all of the fabric. She could not recall how she ever thought any of this was _comfortable_ when she was younger. Maybe because the promise of being a Jedi Knight had blinded her to damn near everything else; yeah, that was probably it.

She had been extremely careful with the braid. Her fingers seemed to remember how to keep the miniature plait narrow and neat without much fuss and she found herself wishing she had beads to string at the end when she’d finished. Looking into a mirror had been a startling experience. Mostly because she didn’t do it often and was always so put off by her own appearance in the glass that she preferred _not_ to. But her mind became very confused for the few moments that she did look into the one hanging on the door of the clothes cupboard. She still looked like herself, though the Odran’oel sun had definitely darkened her skin at least a shade or so and, in turn, had highlighted all of the tiny nicks and scars scattered about her face. Her badge never bothered her. Ugly and dark as it was, she wore it as a sign of honor for having saved one of her men. But these small scars that were caused by debris and shrapnel— _these_ were the things that marred her appearance enough to make her worry about silly shit like being _attractive_ and other things she’d never had to think about on a battlefield.

But now she _had_ to worry. She had to worry about scars and things like _lines_ at the corners of her eyes. Had she always had such a crooked looking nose? Her cheeks always seemed too round, too. Her eyes had been green once. She wondered how long they’d been gold and why no one had told her they’d shifted. She wondered how anyone could find a face like hers—so plain and pockmarked and _tired_ —to be attractive at all. It was a joke. All of this was a joke. It would come crumbling down around her at any moment now and she’d wake up in one of the pod bunks beside Catcher and—

“Have you finished?”

Iza almost shattered the mirror slamming the cabinet closed, taking a step back like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t. Mirrors were terrible things. She hated them. She’d always fucking hated them. Doing her best to try and pull herself out of the strange place her mind had wandered to, Iza didn’t look at Obi-Wan directly as she nodded and tried to steady her breathing.

“Darling?”

“Yes master,” she blinked a few times to make sure the tears would not show and finally settled her gaze to his. “I have finished.”

Obi-Wan did not look concerned about their game. He seemed far more concerned about _her_. His eyes—which seemed to have darkened back to blue within the time they’d been apart—searched her face before he wandered closer and nudged her chin with a crooked finger.

“Iza, my darling, are you all right?”

“I’m fine, master,”

“No—darling,” he sighed and cupped her face, bringing her closer to kiss her forehead. “ _I_ am asking.”

“I just wanted to make sure it looked okay,” Iza gestured to the braid hanging from the side of her head and shut her eyes. “Why do we have that in here? Is the one in the refresher not enough?”

“I will remove it.” Obi-Wan gave a soft, patient look before he kissed her forehead again and brushed his thumb over her cheek. “I did not think it would be an issue. I apologize.”

“I do not mind when they’re not aimed at my face,”

He made an odd noise that sounded like a disgruntled groan. Obi-Wan was well aware of Iza’s _issues_ with mirrors and why she shied away from them in recent months. It did not stop him from being bothered whenever she wanted to insist that there was something horribly wrong with her appearance just because of a few near-invisible scars marking her skin. It did no good to argue with her, though. So, he would only give another quick kiss to her forehead and step back from her to put the proper amount of distance between them once more.

“We are nearly to our destination. I hope you’ve collected all of your things.”

“Yes master,” it was easier to behave as though nothing mattered but the game. Iza could break away from the nasty thoughts in her head and focus on what actually felt important.

“Let me have a look at you,”

Iza took another moment to calm herself before she turned to face him. She did her best to carry herself the way she had when she was younger and more eager to become a laser sword swinging _lie_ , smiling lightly and keeping her hands tucked at the small of her back while he looked her over. It was very distracting to look at his eyes and see _blue_ instead of gold again. Some small part of her mourned the loss of the beautiful color while the rest of her rejoiced and silently pined for the hours she’d be allowed to get lost in them again. He didn’t speak as he walked a full circle around her, though he did tug at her tabard to straighten it in the back and murmured something about her trousers being _snug_. Iza had noticed that many parts of the robes were _snug_. She wasn’t sure if that was a mistake on his part or if he’d botched the measurements on purpose. He’d just taken her for a new set of formal robes for meetings on Serenno. He had all of the correct sizing information. This _must’ve_ been part of the game, surely.

“No beads?” He paused in front of her and gingerly plucked her braid up, studying it and giving her an expectant look.

“I… do not have any, sir,” well, she didn’t. It wasn’t like she kept silka beads lying around on the starship.

“What’s your favorite color, Padawan Tacor?”

There was something almost _perverse_ about the way he said it that sparked Iza’s interest in the game all over again. Obi-Wan didn’t need to ask this question. He knew what her favorite color was. Iza was pretty sure he’d known what it was for _years_.

“Blue, sir.”

“Mm,” he rubbed his chin and continued studying the braid before letting it go. “Dark or light blue?”

“Light,” she could not help the way her features softened when their gazes leveled and she could properly see that lovely color of his eyes again. “Light blue, sir,” _Like his eyes_.

“I may have some light blue beads around _somewhere_.” Tapping his index finger against his bottom lip, Obi-Wan shifted his attention elsewhere in the room as though he were actually trying to remember. Letting out a quiet sigh, he turned back to her and smiled in his gentle, warm way and reached to lightly give her chin a pinch. “Perhaps we will find some at the night market on our way to our hotel.”

“Master?” Iza hoped to the Force that he would not grow cross with her for speaking out of turn. The new game had started, after all, and the rules would be _slightly_ different. “Where has the Council sent us this time?”

His smile faltered into something bordering on _devious_ before he got himself back in check and straightened his back, fixing her with one of his more _professional_ looks.

“Pohrell,” how he managed to say it with a straight face, Iza did not know. “We will be staying in the lower city.”

 _Oh_. She knew where they were going now. He was taking her back to where this had all started. She wondered if he would take her back to that club from before, too. She would be far more prepared for his lechery there now. There would be no shyness and she would not object to the things he wished to do in front of the eyes of others.

“Have we been given a mission?”

“Mm,” giving a single nod, Obi-Wan gestured for her to follow him out of the room towards the front of the ship. “I will explain later, my dear. For now, I would like you to settle in for landing.”

“Yes Master,”

“Come,” he sat down in one of the seats and pulled her onto his lap, adjusting her so her weight rested on him _just right_.

“Is it safe like this, Master Kenobi?” Twisting back to look at him over her shoulder, Iza raised a brow.

“There is no safer place for you, my dear,” he said it so firmly and reassuringly that Iza forgot for a moment that he was playing a part. It certainly sounded like the Obi-Wan she knew and loved. It made her relax enough to settle back against his chest while he reached around her to get to the control console. When he had successfully started the ship’s descent, he sat back in his seat and casually rested a hand against her thigh. “We will breach in about five minutes. You may move once we’ve entered the atmosphere.”

“Yes sir,”

“You’re in a very agreeable mood today, my dear,” tilting his head to look at her, Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “Woken up in good spirits, have we?”

“I’m…” Iza wasn’t sure how to translate her giddiness into the proper script for this game. “… ** _excited_** , Master.”

“Excited?” He chuckled and absently began moving his hand in slow passes along her leg. “Do you know what sort of _filth_ makes its home on Pohrell, Padawan Tacor?”

“No,” Iza shook her head innocently and tried to pretend not to notice that his hand was climbing higher on her lap, sliding beneath the hem of her long outer tunic.

“No…?” Obi-Wan gave her a look. She’d forgotten something.

“No Master Kenobi,” she felt him pause near the crook where her thigh met her hip and give a few thoughtful taps.

“Well,” he reached up with his free hand and brushed the braid off of her face to tuck it behind her ear. “Perhaps it’s best you do not know. Just know that corruption runs deep in this place, my dear. _Stay close to me_.”

“Yes Master,” she nodded and his hand shifted on her leg again, fingers tucking against the front of her trousers to give a few teasing rubs through the fabric until she squirmed and caused him to stop.

“That’s my girl,” he shifted behind her and readjusted her on his lap again, leaning forward into her back under the guise of needing to reach the console again. The hand between her thighs retreated and settled for holding onto her hip and Iza _would_ have pouted if he had not started discreetly rubbing up against the curve of her ass. While he concentrated on what he was doing on the console, Obi-Wan gripped her hip and began pulling her back into him as he rolled his hips forward. The motions were so minor that she probably wouldn’t have noticed at all if she were not playing this game with him. _That_ thought sent a wicked flood of heat straight between her thighs and Iza brought her hand to her mouth to bite down on her thumb, fighting hard against the urge to squirm on him again. She could feel him breathing heavily against her neck and noticed that his fingers seemed to twitch as they held onto the steering mechanism. Another sinful thought ran through her head of how this could’ve been something they did together as _true_ Master and Padawan if they’d only gotten the chance and Iza bit down harder on her thumb and squeezed her legs together tight. Behind her, Obi-Wan let out a breathless chuckle and brushed his mouth against her neck. “I think perhaps the _filth_ has made its home in you, my dear,”

Iza wasn’t sure how to respond. He had not called her _darling_ —which typically signaled he was speaking outside of their fantasy games—but the game felt like it was moving far too quickly for him to whisper that sort of thing to her. Regardless, she felt as though she needed to say _something_ , but before she even had the chance, something on the console beeped and he suddenly stopped moving behind her.

“That was a fast five minutes,” Obi-Wan muttered, sounding irritated as he let go of her hip to reach around and fuss with a few things. Once he was sure they were heading in the correct direction, he sat back again with another sigh and gave her leg a pat. “Up you get, my dear. You’re free to walk about until we reach the shipyard.”

“Must I?” It slipped out. It had been a thought and she hadn’t _meant_ to voice it. Almost immediately, she murmured an apology and got up, moving to head elsewhere in the ship. She got about three steps away before she felt the heavy buzz of Obi-Wan’s new favorite toy start up. She swore in surprise and clamped her hand over her mouth. _Oh_ —that was a _big_ No-No and she knew it.

“Padawan,” the disappointed drawl in his tone made her shiver in a weird way. The buzzing stopped. She could hear him getting up from the chair and coming up behind her and Iza did her best to brace for the impact and instead, got a hand clamped around the back of her neck. “What have we discussed about your mouth?”

She was at a loss. For once, she could not improvise the damn script. Iza wasn’t sure if she was meant to play the part of a secret lover or if he was his lecherous self just taking full advantage of the pinings of a Padawan.

“What color are the stars tonight, darling?”

“ _Genet_.”

“What’s the matter?”

“I’m lost,” it sounded pitiful. This was something she wanted to play out so desperately and he was giving it to her without prompt or provocation and she couldn’t even do it right.

“Lost how, darling?”

“I don’t know how to play.”

“How would you like to play?” He’d eased the grip on her neck and was simply rubbing now, doing his best to soothe her while they worked the game out a little more. Iza almost laughed. While she was very much on board for the idea of them having lived in secret sin for a while, she was far fonder of his bastard behavior. Besides—that was how she would have wanted it to play out.

“I think… it would be more exciting…” she didn’t know how to verbalize this without it sounding incredibly tacky or lewd. “If we did not behave as though we’re already lovers.”

“Mm,” it was difficult to tell whether he was actually mulling this over or not. “Very well darling. Just take care not to get frustrated when I do not take advantage of _all_ your little advances, hm?”

“Yes sir,”

“Good girl,” kissing her cheek, Obi-Wan released her with a quick pat to her backside before straightening and giving her a stern look. “Again— _your mouth_ , Padawan Tacor,”

“It was an accident, Master,” Iza wondered if it was a bad thing that it was so easy to slip back into character like this. They had played a few fantasy games before on their trips home from Serenno—mostly to pass the time when they were in the mood for it—and she almost never managed to switch it on and off like this. Perhaps she was just getting better at it? “Please forgive me. It will not happen again.”

“I should hope not.” He fixed her with such a scandalized look that Iza was almost convinced that her foul mouth actually _bothered_ him. “Those are not words for a Jedi to use, do you understand?”

“Yes Master,”

“Good.” He gestured towards the bedroom. “Gather your bags. I’ll be setting us down in just a moment.”

~*~*~*~

Pohrell had not changed much but Iza really hadn’t expected it to. The area he’d taken her to was still just as sleazy as ever, though she couldn’t help noticing how people seemed to move out of their way as they headed down the walkpath. At first, she thought maybe it had to do with Obi-Wan. He hadn’t been seen much since they’d all left the Order and his face was one that was well known across the galaxy. And then she realized she was wearing her lightsaber on her belt for everyone and their mother to see. _Jedi_ were not common in this area—at least, none that kept themselves out in the open. When they passed through the night market on the way to the hotel, he halted her in front of a vendor selling various jewelry and little boxes of silka beads, giving her a nudge.

“You may choose whichever color you like.” Smiling politely at her—it was _odd_ for him to do this when she’d seen him make such wicked faces—Obi-Wan stood back patiently and waited while she turned and looked the selection over. It felt weird to pick beads out at her age, especially a whole box of them. She had a feeling the vendor was a bit suspicious about the whole thing as well, judging by the way she kept flicking her eyes between Iza and Obi-Wan. When she finally got to an array of different blue beads, Iza spent a long time looking them over until she found the perfect color and plucked the box from where it sat.

“May I have these, Master?” She asked, trying not to look so childishly hopeful. Giving a nod, the older man inquired about the price to the vendor and paid her, planting his hand between Iza’s shoulders and quickly steering her away.

“I was going to get us something to eat,” he murmured from the corner of his mouth, ushering her between people as carefully as he could. “But I do not trust that woman not to alert the authorities.”

“What?” Iza looked up at him, blinking. “I… Master Kenobi, I’m your Padawan and I—I’m over the Age of Responsibility—”

“No, darling,” he gave her a look and laughed. “You misunderstand. You have quite a youthful face and no identification. I was a fool and forgot to change clothes. It looks like I’ve snatched you from a Temple. This will not go over well, especially since we are still _technically_ enemies of the Republic.”

“Wait— _what?_ ”

“My darling,” Obi-Wan seemed like he was trying to hold onto his patience as much as he could. “You _stole_ a rather large number of the Republic’s men and made them deserters. Anakin and I committed an act of treason. We are not wanted criminals, but it is best if we do not allow ourselves to be reprimanded.”

“Oh,” allowing him to direct her past a cart selling something that smelled _divine_ , Iza fell silent until he finally slowed them back to a casual enough pace. Glancing up at him, she watched while he looked over his shoulder every so often and frowned. Perhaps this fantasy game was not a great idea if it meant they would have to be so cautious.

“Ah—here we are,” Obi-Wan sounded like himself as he led her towards a very familiar looking building. It was the same damn hotel they’d stayed in. If he brought her up to the same room and they shared the same bed without sleeping together in it, Iza was going to burn the place down. She kept this to herself, of course, and let him guide her into the hotel where he instructed her to stand off to the side while he checked them in. This took no time at all and before she knew it, she was standing in the exact same room, staring at the exact same bed where she’d completely given herself over to him. Iza simply stood near the foot of the bed for a long time, holding her bag on her shoulder and staring blankly at the ugly yellow and green floral bedspread until her eyes blurred.

“Darling?”

She knew he was going to make her sleep on the floor. Or on the very edge of the other side of the bed. He would not let her indulge in his presence while they were here. It was part of the game. He was her Master and she was his Padawan. They were not here to reminisce.

“Iza,”

“ _Cin_ ,” the response was automatic and she moved away from the bed before he had a chance to get near her, dropping her bag in the same corner she’d put it almost an entire year before. She suddenly didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to play this game. She didn’t want to play _any_ games. This was such a sacred place to her—dingy and dank as it was. This was _their_ place. This and the fucking starship. She and Anakin had the hotel on the other side of the planet too. And the hostel—that bed they’d all shared…

“Have I lost you, darling?” Obi-Wan had snuck up on her, gingerly winding his arms around her shoulders as he rested his chin against the top of her head. “Are you upset with me?”

“I do not understand,” she said quietly, leaning back into his chest. She had not expected him to break character so much. Obi-Wan was usually quite devoted to staying true to his roles. “Why here? Why this place?”

“The games will not last forever, my darling,” he gave a gentle squeeze and bowed to kiss her head. “We will make good use of this room before we leave for the other half of the trip.”

He still had not explained what the _other half_ of the trip was. Right now, Iza wasn’t sure she cared much. She was more concerned with not tainting this place if she could help it.

“Would you prefer if I asked for a different room? Would that suit you better?”

“No master,” the whole damn planet had been their playground, hadn’t it? All of the underground bars and clubs he’d taken her to across this city and the other—they would need to leave entirely if he wanted to make her feel less uneasy about this. “We can stay in this room.”

“I would like it very much if you did not address me that way right now, Iza,” he turned her in his arms and brushed his fingers down the side of her face. “I understand I’m not making it easy to decipher what is part of the game and what is not—but I am not speaking as your master right now. Surely you know the difference?”

Did she? Iza knew the difference between Obi-Wan at home and Obi-Wan on Serenno, and she knew the difference between Obi-Wan and The Bastard. But it was difficult to pick apart which was _Obi-Wan_ and which was her _master_. They were both the same person in her eyes and in her head. Perhaps one was just a little _meaner_ than the other sometimes and the other remained as gentle as he could possibly be. Still—it was not easy to tell which was which when he could swap between them so rapidly without effort.

“I do,” she nodded and shut her eyes for a moment heaving a breath. “ _I do_. Maybe I’m just tired.”

“Would you like a break?”

“No. No breaks. You said there would be no mercy spared and you’ve broken your own vow.” Giving him a look, Iza pursed her lips in a soft frown.

“ _I_ am allowed to break vows during games like this when it comes to your wellbeing. You have had several moments of disconnect today, darling. I feel you may need—”

“I do not want a break.” She mostly did not want to run the risk that he would stop playing this game with her entirely. As frustrated as she was with him depriving her of release and as upsetting as it was to be made to sleep on the floor with his cum striped across her skin, she would much rather put up with it and be rewarded with the fantasy game than have it all taken from her just because she’d blanked out a few times. She was not deteriorating. She was not twitching. There was no buzzing in her head and no whispering. If she could figure out how to make her eyes fade back to their normal green the way he’d turned his blue again—she’d do it. Just to prove she was fine, she would do it. “Please do not make me stop.”

“My girl,” Obi-Wan cupped her face in his hands, gently stroking his thumbs against her cheeks as he gazed down at her with eyes that were full of deep concern. “My sweet, darling girl. What are you afraid of?”

“Nothing,” she whispered, knowing full well he knew different. “I simply do not wish to stop.”

“I will not make you stop,” he didn’t know what else to do. He ran the risk of sending her careening back into the hellish mindset he’d pulled her from over a week ago if he took this away from her and he knew it. It was not something she could control—that he knew of—and he had not had enough time to work with her on it while they’d been home. If her quick little fall back into the absent, twitchy mess from the other night was anything to go by, all of this was _very_ vital to her. He could keep the games up for as long as she needed, but sooner or later Iza was going to have to pull herself back to reality where she belonged. “In trade, will you at least rest with me?”

“Am I allowed?”

“You know the rules, darling,” he smiled kindly and kissed the center of her forehead. “You are allowed to do anything I say you’re allowed to do. And I would like it very much if you would come lie down with me for a little while.”

“As your darling or your Padawan?”

“We may play the game again if it will motivate you to do as I ask.” That kind smile turned into an amused purse of the lips. “But perhaps we ought to put the beads in your hair if we’re to go back to that.”

Nodding, Iza started to turn to go into her bag for the beads when he held her back for a moment and studied her face. His expression was difficult to read, but Iza’s mind had already started wandering over the possibilities of what might transpire during their game. Only when he leaned down and planted a deep, heart-wrenchingly tender kiss to her lips did her mind quieten and her whole body relax into his. Iza hadn’t realized how much she’d missed his kiss. Being deprived of orgasms was frustrating as hell, but it was the loss of affection that always got to her the most. Even when they took these little timeouts for check-ins and he gave her tiny morsels of what she’d eventually be rewarded with, it always surprised her with how starved she felt for him.

“I love you, my darling,” he murmured against her lips, sliding his fingers back into her hair to cup and cradle her head. “Please do not forget what I told you.”

“Before Master Kenobi,” Iza wanted to crawl into his lap and snuggle into his chest and stay there forever. There was nowhere else she wanted to be. _No_ _one_ else she wanted to be but his darling. “ _You_ are the one who loves me, my Obi-Wan.” She pushed her lips against his in another hurried kiss like she was worried he might pull away too soon. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“Are you ready darling?”

“Not yet,” she pulled at his tunic and nuzzled her cheek into his, shutting her eyes while she simply listened to him breathe against her ear. “Please, just for another minute.”

“Are you sure you do not wish to take a break?”

“No breaks,” Iza swallowed thickly and shook her head. “Just hold me.”

He would grant it to her and he would give her longer than a minute. He was not sure how long he spent cradling her head in one hand while holding her to him with the other, planting soft kisses to her face and occasionally murmuring sweet things to her. If he could not convince her to take a small break from their games, then perhaps this would do. He knew he was falling a bit behind on his duties as her Master in terms of keeping tabs on her state of mind and how these things were affecting her. He also had a real terrible feeling that perhaps the _aftercare_ she’d been given several nights prior had not been sufficient enough. Honestly—Anakin knew better and he would’ve hoped that Catcher did too. It was just common sense to _insist_ on something more thorough than a nap and a bath when the submissive party was so damn high on every feel-good sensation that could be had at a time like that. Perhaps this was why she sought him out for these things more often. Clinginess and neediness aside, Iza had put her full trust in him right off the bat the first night they’d shared together. She’d put her full trust in him the moment she’d signed on for the mission, truthfully. She knew she could come to him for things she could not ask for from the others. There was no judgement here. There might be things they disagreed on and boundaries he would not cross—some even _she_ would not cross—but no judgement. Just love and complete trust in one another, the way it ought to be.

“Master Kenobi?”

Her soft voice startled the hell out of him but he did his best not to let it show as he cleared his throat and straightened, stealing one last kiss before he finally let go of her.

“Yes?” Obi-Wan tried so hard to smile normally, as though he didn’t harbor enough affection for her and Anakin to keep his soul halfway in the Light where it no longer belonged.

“Will you help me with these?” Iza turned to retrieve the box of silka beads, holding it up for him to see. “I would like to keep my braid neat, Master. I don’t know if I can do that and string them at the same time.”

“I suppose I can do that,” giving a nod, he gestured to the bed before taking a seat. “Have you got a hair comb? You ought to tie the rest back first.”

“Oh, right,” it took her a minute to figure out which pocket of the travel bag she’d jammed it into and she just _knew_ Obi-Wan was making that damn annoyed face he always made when someone did not properly put something away in the house. Taking up the spot beside him, Iza felt strangely nervous and let out an odd laugh before holding the box and comb up. “Which would you like?”

“I would prefer not to tear the hair from your head,” plucking the box from her hand, he pointed to the comb. “ _You_ may have the honors.”

Making a face, Iza almost huffed as she swept the ends of her long hair over her shoulder and went about combing them as quickly as possible. The damn curls made it almost impossible in places and there was one spot that she _swore_ had been fine before that she ended up sitting and picking at for about ten minutes before the knot came loose. When it was finally smooth enough to twist up and out of the way, she gave an irritated grumble and tugged her braid down from where it’d been tucked behind her ear.

“This is such sithspit,” the game had completely slipped her mind in the middle of detangling her hair and now she was just annoyed that she had to plait her hair like she was twelve again.

“I beg your pardon?”

“ _Master_ ,” she had also forgotten that Obi-Wan was sitting beside her on the bed, apparently. Looking up at him, she covered her mouth with her fingers and gave a pleading look. “I wasn’t—I didn’t— _I forgot we were playing a game_.”

It took everything the older man had not to laugh. He supposed he could sympathize. There’d been moments in the past when he’d ripped himself right out of his headspace and completely forgotten what he was meant to be doing. He could give her a pass this time.

“Do try to be a little more mindful, darling,” he winked and stifled the chuckle that rose in his throat before sobering. “I will let this go _one more time_ , Padawan Tacor. You get no more chances after this.”

“Yes Master,” giving a sincere bow of her head, Iza began taking down the braid again to comb the hair out and start all over until she reached a place where she wanted to set a bead. “Do you think here would be okay?”

“You may place them wherever you like,” opening the box, Obi-Wan paused when he saw the color she’d chosen, letting out a soft grunt before taking one from the box to inspect it. “ _This_ is your preferred shade of blue?”

“It is, yes,” she nodded and shifted closer when he waved her forward, watching as he carefully gathered the ends of the braid into a slim point to feed them through the bead. “Is it unsightly, Master?”

“No,” shaking his head, Obi-Wan seemed surprised by his own genuine answer. “I believe the shade suits you well.”

“Everyone always expects _green_ to be my favorite,” once the bead had been fit snugly into place, Iza began to braid her hair again. The movements were automatic now and she stopped to count how many twists she’d put in before prompting him to add another bead. “I have never been very fond of green, actually. I think it makes a pretty eye color and I enjoy green things like plants—but I do not find it appealing as a wearable color.”

“I might have guessed something a bit richer. Perhaps a shade of maroon?”

“That’s Catc—” Iza stopped herself and collected her thoughts before continuing. “It’s a beautiful color as well, but this blue is special to me.”

“Special?” He would be kind and not acknowledge that she’d slipped again. She did seem quite tired. He could not fault her if she could not keep character.

“Blue is symbolic for _trust_ and _loyalty_.” Continuing to twist her way down the length of hair, Iza shot him a look. “It’s an important color. Blue eyed men are supposed to be the most faithful and loving partners.”

Obi-Wan fumbled the box of beads and cussed at himself when they scattered over his lap and onto the floor. For a moment, he sat there staring at what was left inside of the box before he sheepishly began picking them up one by one. He did not know why that statement had gotten him so flustered. Perhaps _he_ was getting too involved in this game.

“Master Kenobi,”

Looking up from where he’d started picking beads up from the floor, he found Iza giving him an odd look as she held the braid pinched between her fingers.

“Yes, my dear?”

“I thought Jedi were not supposed to use words like that?”

 _Oh_ —there she was. _There_ was his girl. The bratty little thing he loved so dearly.

“Yes— _well,_ ” clearing his throat, he ran his fingers through his hair and continued picking up the mess of beads he’d made. “Slip-ups happen.”

“Who gets to scold _you_ when you say such things?”

“Certainly not _you_ , my dear,” letting out a dry laugh, he scooped the last of the beads back into the box and reclaimed his spot on the bed so he could help thread another bead into her hair.

“And why not?” Iza pursed her mouth in a light frown. “If you are going to keep my mouth in check, should it not be my duty to do the same for you?”

“You are not the Master,” he said it the same way he’d said it to Anakin a thousand and one times before. “You do not need to worry about me.”

“I think four is enough.” Iza’s tone had shifted and she went to her bag for the colored thread he’d left out with her robes on the ship to tie her hair off. “Thank you for your help, Master Kenobi.”

“Of course,” closing the lid to the box of beads, he simply held it for a moment and waited until she’d turned back to him before holding it out. “You look tired.”

“You know I don’t sleep well on the starship, Master,” carefully tucking the beads into a pocket, Iza grabbed her comb to stash it away as well and rose to her full height so she could properly face him.

“Perhaps you should rest?”

Glancing from Obi-Wan to the bed and back again, Iza gave a light shrug of her shoulders and shook her head.

“I think I’ll be all right. There’s a caf machine in the lobby downstairs. I can get us both a cup and—”

“You need to be well rested for this assignment,” Obi-Wan stood and stepped nearer to her, giving her one of his stern looks as he began folding his arms over his chest. “Loading yourself with caf will not help your mind remain clear, young one.”

“Where will _you_ rest, Master?” She stepped around him, unclipping her lightsaber from her belt and giving the hilt a few casual twirls around her knuckles. She’d missed playing with it. She wondered if he would let her keep it when they went home after this trip. “There is only the one bed and you are the one who flew the ship. You must be twice as tired as I am.”

“There is plenty of room for two. You may take one side and I will take the other.”

Looking at him for a long moment, Iza sighed and stopped twirling the lightsaber, setting it down on the nearby table before she began removing her boots.

“I want the left side,” gesturing to the side nearest to where he was standing, she pulled her feet from her boots and set them near the door. Without stopping to think, she began loosening the leather belt keeping her obi in place.

“What are you doing?” Obi-Wan sounded almost appalled. For a minute, she just stared at him as if he were crazy and then realized what she was in the middle of doing.

“You expect me to sleep like this?” Throwing her arms out, the brunette folded them over her chest and frowned. “Master, I cannot rest comfortably wearing all of these layers.”

“I will allow the removal of your belt, but there is no need for you to remove the rest of it.”

“It is _hot_ in here,” it _was_ a bit stuffy. There was a control panel on the wall for the cooler, but she would not be the first one to make a move to use it. “Master please do not be cruel,”

“ _Very well_ ,” he kept his eyes pointed to the floor and waved his hand at her. “Your trousers and your tunic stay where they are. I will turn the cooler on if it gets any warmer.”

“I do not know what you are worried about. They’re just _clothes._ ” Letting out a scoff, Iza began peeling the layers off, tossing them onto her bag in the corner without thought or care. She was in the middle of shrugging out of the outer robe when the sudden pulse of vibration started up inside of her and caught her so off-guard that she moaned heavily and was barely able to smother the end of it with her palm.

“Pick them up,” Obi-Wan’s voice was cold and stern and when she didn’t immediately respond, he turned the dial up until she tucked her knees in and folded forward, throwing her hands out to catch herself on the wall.

“ _Master_ ,” if he wanted her to do _anything_ , he needed to shut that stupid thing off. “Please—I can’t— _I’m gonna_ —”

It stopped and Iza dropped where she stood, shivering and beating the wall with a fist as she tried to catch her breath and force back the fiery sensation that desperately wanted to wash over her. When she was finally sure that she could move with this damn thing inside of her without accidentally setting herself off, she straightened and silently reached for the pile of discarded robes, folding them neatly and setting them back where they belonged.

“What color are the stars, darling?”

“ _Cin_ ,” maybe she needed a little water, but she was fine. She did not know what the hell he’d charged the power cell of the toy with but _fuck_. She swore it was stronger than it’d been before. Slowly, she got to her feet and turned around to look at him, shrugging out of her outer robe and folding it too before setting it on the pile. Left in her tunic and trousers, the brunette gave a faint smile and crossed over to the bed, dropping down onto her side. She heard him moving around the room behind her and heard the faint, familiar rustle and jingle of him removing his belt and boots. The bed dipped on the other side and she waited a moment before twisting to look at him. _Stars above_ , he had gone and taken his damn tunic off and she _knew_ he’d done it on purpose. “ _That’s not fair_ ,”

“Beg pardon?” Looking at her like he was the most innocent man in the galaxy, Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “What is not fair?”

“ _You_ can come to bed in a state of undress like this but I have to suffer fully clothed?” Gesturing to his bare chest, the brunette huffed and turned over again, facing away from him. “Of course the rules would not apply to _you._ ”

“I will turn the cooler on.”

“I would prefer it if you wore a tunic and suffered.”

“That is a very unkind thing to say, Padawan Tacor,” even as he said it, Obi-Wan was having trouble keeping a straight face. He could not tell if Iza was truly outraged that he’d removed his tunic or if she’d just gone _that_ deep into character. Both seemed extremely plausible in that moment.

“I care not,” curling up into a ball, the younger woman angrily buried her head in the pillow and glared at the wall in front of her.

“You ought to.” She could hear him getting up from the bed again and heard the soft beeping of the cooler’s console as he fiddled with it. Iza did not hear him put his tunic back on, however. He didn’t even stop on his trek back from the console to the bed. When he got settled again, she turned over to look at him for a long moment and then sat up, yanking her tunic from where it was tucked into her trousers and pulling it off over her head to fold it.

“ _What are you doing?!_ ”

“Making it _fair_ ,” she still wore the under-tunic and she would leave it in place for the sake of _modesty_. Once her tunic had been set on top of the rest of her robes, she looked back over at Obi-Wan and made a face at him, turning onto her side and away from him once more.

“You will regret that, my dear,” he chuckled quietly behind her, reaching across the space of the bed to give her braid a playful tug. “Rest well. You’re going to need it.”


	8. I'm Trapped in My Headspace

Iza felt a strange sense of deja’vu waking up alone in the middle of the bed. She didn’t know what time it was and she didn’t know where Obi-Wan had gone. She could not feel his Force signature, but he’d had her cut off from him since they’d left Odran’oel so that didn’t worry her _too_ much. She could not recall offhand how long the night cycles lasted on Pohrell. She knew the nights were longer than the days, which was why it was such a prime spot for debaucherous clubs and the kind of people that ran them, but her body insisted that it was _morning_ while it was still very dark outside the window. It was chilly in here, too. She wondered how low Obi-Wan had set the temperature. Unsure if she ought to just remain in bed until he returned from _wherever_ it was he’d gone, or if she wanted to fuss with the cooler console, Iza sat up a little and looked around. His boots were gone, so he definitely wasn’t somewhere else in the room. Pity. She would have liked a few moments of sleepy snuggling before they got back to their game. Heaving a sigh, the brunette threw the blanket back and started to roll out of the bed when the glow of something blue beneath Obi-Wan’s pillow caught her eye. Curious, she stuck her hand underneath and pulled out the control device for the toy he’d been taunting her with for the last few days.

How foolish of him to leave it behind. And to try and hide it beneath his pillow, too. Well, now that she had it, she would make sure it was _misplaced_ so that he did not have quite so much control. Iza was sure he’d just get another one anyway—or likely had a spare somewhere, knowing him—so it wouldn’t be _that_ big of a deal, right? Studying the control device, she swept her thumb across the surface of the glass and was met with a screen full of options and level settings. She had only seen the little dial that he’d been using. She’d had no idea that the thing was so damn intricate. Perhaps he had not charged the toy itself with something special. It was just this damn controller that held all of the power. _Well_ , it would not hold its power for much longer. Scooting off of the bed, she wandered into the washroom and eyed the sink. He might _actually_ get upset if she were to short it out under the tap. Perhaps she could hide it somewhere in here? The mirror had a cabinet behind it and there was just enough space up top to set the controller out of sight. She did not think he was tall enough to see it unless he stood on his toes. _She_ would need to climb up onto the sink to get to the spot, however. Deciding that it would have to do—the other option would be to put it into a light fixture and she was in no mood to use the Force to unscrew _anything_ right now—Iza carefully pulled herself up onto the counter and placed the controller face down so its glow would not be seen.

Satisfied with herself and her mischievous deed, the brunette slid back down and caught a quick glimpse of herself in the mirror. Again, she found herself startled by her own appearance. Maybe the lighting in the washroom was different than that of the starship, or perhaps it was the way her hair was pulled up with the beaded braid hanging down from behind her ear—but she did not look the same as she had before. Her features seemed _softer_ and not nearly as haunted. The sprinkling of scars on her face seemed lighter than they’d ever looked to her. _Green_. Her eyes were green again. The stars Catcher always spoke of were there, glittering gold as they flecked the peridot surface of her irises. Reaching up, she slapped her hand against the mirror. This had to be some sort of trick. This was a false image. Something had been done to this glass to make it show things that were not real. Slapping it again, harder, Iza heard the device up top rattle around but paid it no mind. Nothing else mattered but this damn mirror and its lies. She would find out what devilry was causing it to show her such imagery. Opening the cabinet door, she peered inside to find it empty aside from the complimentary soaps and other things the hotel provided. The back panel holding the mirror was flat and plain and contained no circuitry that she could see. It did not stop her from patting it down or trying to pry it back with her fingers until they were sore. Slamming it shut, she stared hard at the girl cast in the reflection before her. She hated her. This soft, delicate looking _thing_ was not **_her_**. Giving another hard smack to the glass like it might change what she was seeing, Iza drew back and spit into the face of the lie standing before her.

“What are you doing?”

Startled, Iza jumped and looked up higher in the reflection to find Obi-Wan standing behind her in the hall, a concerned expression on his face. Turning to him, she pressed her lips together hard and pointed.

“ _It lies_.” She wanted to smash it. It would’ve already been in pieces if they were at home. “That is not my face.”

“Darling,” he cautiously stepped closer and tentatively reached for her. “It _is_ your face.”

“It is **_not_**.” Iza shook her head insistently and blinked rapidly to fight back the wave of tears that had welled up in them. She did not flinch when he came further into the room, but she did turn away when he tried to cup her face in his hands.

“Iza my darling,” his voice was low and gentle as he moved in closer and carefully curled his fingers around her shoulders instead, intending to pull her away from the mirror. “Come with me,”

“ _Fix it_.”

“There is nothing to fix.”

“Have you gone blind?” Iza stared at him for a long time before turning back to point at the glass that had been sprayed with saliva. “ _That is not my face!_ ”

“Okay,” Obi-Wan heaved a sigh and stooped to wind his arms around her and pluck her up like a child, carrying her out of the washroom while she hollered in outrage and twisted against his hold. He let her have her little tantrum the same way he always did. She would struggle for a few minutes and wear herself down and eventually she would be calm enough to discuss this. He only needed to be patient. He did not have to wait long before she was sagging against his shoulder and winding her legs around his waist, tucking her face in the crook of his neck as a quiet, huffy sob gusted out of her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he adjusted her on his lap and sighed, giving her back a gentle rub. “Darling, are you all right?”

“That is not… my face,” she swallowed thickly and turned her head so he couldn’t look at her. “I have not looked like that since before we left the Order.”

“Would you call _me_ a liar if I said that your face has not changed at all?”

“I would.” She huffed and nestled deeper into his chest. “Because you hold a bias.”

“A bias means nothing, darling,” Obi-Wan chuckled quietly and kissed the side of her head. “I promise you that your face has not changed. Perhaps it is the way you see yourself that is causing you to think such a thing, hm?”

“Where did you go, Master Kenobi?” Iza did not want to discuss this. She wanted to go back to that sweet place with him and forget this nonsense. She only hoped he would indulge her and allow her to change the subject. It seemed this time, he would not.

“We will get to that,” nudging her chin so she would look at him, Obi-Wan fixed her with a light frown and brushed his finger down the side of her face. “I know this is not a comfortable thing for you to discuss, darling, but you must stop hiding from me this way.”

“I do not know what you want me to say,”

“Just talk to me, darling. Tell me why you think the mirror has lied to you.”

“You will only tell me how ridiculous I’m being—same as Anakin does.”

“I will say no such thing,” he promised, moving the braid off of her face.

“I am not…” she hesitated and dropped her gaze before shaking her head. “You are going to argue with me,”

“Darling, I just want you to _talk_. I will not respond if you do not want me to, but I feel it’s important for me to understand why you suddenly—”

“I never had to worry about being pretty before. I worry about it all the time now. I worry because I see the things the mirror really shows and I know _you_ will see them too and… and when it shows me lies like that, I don’t know what is my true face and what isn’t.” Her head twitched. Not violently, but enough for Obi-Wan to notice. “She said I was not pretty enough to be worth the trouble and she was right. She said she did not understand what you see in me—and I often wonder these things too. I do not feel like I am enough for you sometimes and that I’m not as pretty as I should be and it’s… it’s so _silly_ because… I feel you would not look at me like you do if…”

“Iza,” Obi-Wan’s touch was gentle as he rested his hand against her cheek and drew her attention back to him. He felt a strange sense of relief to see that her eyes had only started lightening and had not fully shifted back to the gold color once again. It meant he had a chance to pull her back before she could send herself off into a much darker headspace than she seemed to be in. Smiling affectionately, he rubbed his thumb along her flushed skin and leaned up to kiss her forehead. “I do not know who spoke such vile things to you, but they were wrong. I have seen you at your very worst, my darling. Anakin and I both have. You are lovely _always_.”

“You are _biased_.”

“I am _honest_ , darling,” He fixed her with a look and gave her bottom lip a light tap with a fingertip. “I understand very well how it feels to dislike certain… physical attributes about yourself. But what you may see as unattractive in your eyes may not be so in the eyes of another.”

“You have had this talk with Anakin, haven’t you?” it was more of a moment of realization than a true question and Iza tilted her head with a soft frown. “Is it intrusive to ask what you do not like about yourself?”

“Not intrusive, no,” he shook his head and shrugged before smiling in a cheeky manner. “You may ask as much as you like, darling. It does not mean you will get an answer.”

“That is unfair,” the frown deepened. “You know the things that bother me about myself.”

“I do not wish to tell you because I do not want you rushing to comfort me. These are things that I have spent a fair amount of time accepting and they do not bother me quite as much as they used to. I am not withholding to be mean, darling.”

“Did you tell Anakin?”

Obi-Wan pressed his lips together tight and silently cursed at himself. He should have known she would pull that card. If there was ever anything she could do that would force his hand to make something _equal_ it was bringing up whether or not Anakin had been allowed to experience it first. There were some things, of course, that were of little to no interest to her that she had not used this trick on. She seemed to save it for things that either meant a great deal to her on some level or because she truly wanted a sense of equality between them.

“You _did_.”

“Do not take that tone with me,” he did not mean to snap. He’d caught sight of that damn braid and his brain had automatically put him back into _Master_ mode. Shutting his eyes with a grunt, he shook his head. “ _Darling_ —just because Anakin—”

“Do not ask me to _talk_ to you about anything again if you are not going to share in return,”

“We have spoken about guilt trips, Iza.”

“It is not a guilt trip.” Iza’s features hardened before she looked elsewhere in the room. “I understand your methods with Anakin are different than your methods with _me_ but you also claim to try and make things _equal_. How is it equal when he knows things that I do not?”

“Why is this important? Hm?” He tried to nudge her chin so she would look at him but she refused. “Are you still jealous, darling? Do we need to have that conversation again, too?”

“You grow tired of me hiding from you, yes?” Green eyes shifted to stare him down, annoyed and half-full of tears. “How do you think _I_ feel knowing there are things you willingly keep from me but have told Anakin? It is not _jealousy_ , my love. I have told you before that I harbor no such feeling for my _cyar’ika_. I simply do not like feeling left out.”

“The scarring,” he held her gaze as he inhaled deeply and held his breath, bracing himself for the barrage of reassurance and soothing coos he knew would follow. When she only blinked in confusion and tipped her head, he exhaled with a humorless laugh. “My back, darling. Your hands have been there enough to know what I’m talking about.”

Iza actually had to take a minute to figure out what he was talking about. At first, she’d thought he meant the scar across his chest, but he hadn’t had that long enough to have any sort of _talk_ with Anakin about physical appearance. And then he mentioned his back and it clicked. There were old—she wasn’t actually sure _how old_ , but they’d gone white with age—deep lines that spanned the length of his back. She did not know where they’d come from and she had never asked. She hardly took notice of them, honestly. There might have been a time or two when she’d come up to kiss the back of his neck when he was topless and he’d tensed up or flinched away, but she’d never given it a second thought. Realizing that he seemed to be waiting for her to say something, the brunette reached up and brushed her fingers through the bit of hair that had fallen across his forehead.

“You are a funny man,” she said softly, tracing a fingertip down the side of his face.

“Funny, darling?”

“Mm,” she nodded and gently scratched her nails through his beard, smiling at the way he groaned and seemed to melt into the touch like a damn tooka cat. “You are allowed your insecurities too, my love. You do not have to force yourself to always be our backbone. I am not always…” she paused and tapped the side of her head with her free hand. “…but I will always keep you up. Always.”

“It’s appreciated darling,” smiling, Obi-Wan leaned in and stole a soft kiss, giving a nudge of his forehead against hers. “But for the record—I do not mind being the backbone. Most of the time.”

“I was going to call you a liar had you not said that,” Iza laughed and pulled him in for another kiss, shaking her head. “I am sorry for fussing. I did not mean to ruin your morning. Evening. What time _is_ it?”

“I don’t know, actually,” looking around to see whether there was sunlight coming through the windows yet or not, Obi-Wan frowned and patted himself down for his commlink. “But do not worry yourself over it, my darling. You have not ruined anything. We have discussed many times that you must be in the right headspace before we continue any of our games.”

“I was fine,” Iza shrugged and snorted, gesturing to the bed. “Aside from not knowing where you were, I did not feel upset until I went into the washroom to hi—check and make sure the beads hadn’t shifted in my hair.”

He gave her a funny look for about a half of a second before he pulled his commlink from a pocket and checked the time. Snorting, he tucked it away again and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Mm, it’s barely ten,” he could’ve sworn it was later than this. He wondered what time it was back on Odran’oel. Perhaps that had something to do with why they were both wide awake. “Well, at least we know we won’t have an issue getting food or finding something to do.”

“Are you interested in bringing your Padawan to one of these filthy clubs, Master Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan choked on his next breath and sputtered, looking bewildered at the mere suggestion.

“Have you gone mad?” He let out a laugh and shook his head. “Do you know what would happen if I brought you into one of those places while you have a Padawan’s braid in your hair?”

“No,” Iza shook her head and shrugged. “What would happen?”

“There would be quite a lot of credits thrown my way just for a chance to have you perched on someone’s lap, for one.”

“You’re telling me a few silly beads and a braid is what does it for these heathens?”

“No, darling,” he gently wound the end of her braid around his finger and gave a tiny tug. “ _This_ is like a symbol of _purity_. It is one thing for a Jedi Knight to dip their toes into such a sleazy cesspool, but a Padawan? Something seen by most as such an innocent, delicate fruit barely ripe enough for _plucking?_ My sweet girl—you would be like pure glitterstim to them.”

“Will you take me to the club, Master?” Iza probably should not have rocked on his lap the way that she had but the picture he was painting was extremely alluring and she suddenly had a _need_ to be shown around like his most prized possession. She had a feeling it might spark something _lovely_ and _sinister_ within him as well. Obi-Wan was extremely capable of concealing his possessive side, but Iza knew _all_ the tricks to kick those doors wide open and have him throwing blows if she really wanted him to. It wouldn’t have to come to that. She would settle for an aggressive reminder of who she truly belonged to.

“No.” He answered plainly, brushing her off of his lap before getting to his feet. “This is not the same kind of club as the Outlander, my dear. We have other business to tend to.”

“What could we possibly do for the Council at this hour, Master Kenobi?” Folding her arms over her chest, Iza sat down hard on the edge of the bed and watched him walk over to his bag. “You still have not said where you were.”

“I stepped out.” Iza could very clearly see him stashing the packet of cigarettes into a side pocket and almost laughed. She never knew when he indulged in the nasty habit unless she was next to him while it happened. It was like the smell refused to cling to him. “And we have _plenty_ we can do, Padawan Tacor,”

“I will not be stuck doing your paperwork again,” she frowned when he picked his head up and gave her a funny look. “Do not make that face at me, Master. You handed me that datapad and never asked for it back. I ended up having to do _all_ of the boring parts. I _hate_ reports and you know it.”

“Ah— _see_ ,” okay, now he understood. Straightening, he waved his finger at her. “Knowing how to properly give a written debrief is part of the job, my dear. It is not my favorite part either, but I have managed and so will you.”

“I want to go to the club.”

“You may continue to _want_ all you like,” he shrugged and picked his pillow up, pausing a moment before he absently began patting himself down. A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth and Iza casually—but quickly—got up from where she sat to move out of arm’s reach.

“I am old enough to go without you,” she had to turn away from him so he would not see how hard she was fighting to keep her face straight.

“You cannot…” he seemed to be losing his train of thought. She heard the blankets rustling like he was searching for something and then the sound of him going to his bag. “You need a chaperone.”

“I am not a _youngling_.”

“And I have said this is not the same kind of club…” picking his head up, he stared at her back and narrowed his eyes. “ _Iza_ , where is the controller?”

“Controller, Master?”

“Ah-ah,” he rose to his full height and wagged a finger at her. “You look at me when I speak to you.”

Steeling herself, Iza twisted and looked back at him with nothing but pure innocence in her eyes. He likely wouldn’t buy it. He knew her too well.

“Master, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“There was a little controller under my pillow,” he pointed and spaced his fingers apart. “Flat, about this big. Where has it gone?”

“I haven’t seen it.” She shrugged again and twisted the end of her braid around her finger, doing her best not to tug. She knew that tugging would give her away. “What does it control, Master?”

“That is not important,” the look in his eyes was dark and damn dangerous as he stepped closer and loomed over her. “What have you done with it?”

“I’ve told you I don’t—”

“ _Iza_ ,” a hand came up and grasped her chin and something in his features shifted. He was no longer playing the fantasy game with her. “ _Darling_ —where is my controller?”

“I do not have it,” she wasn’t sure how wise it was to continue playing dumb. Surely he would not halt the entire game over a silly toy controller?

“ _Where has it gone?_ ”

Iza started to shrug and shake her head when he growled and released her face, going to take hold of her braid instead. She half expected him to yank at it, but when he began picking at the knot in the thread that bound it together she shouted out in panic and tried to bat at his hands.

“ _Stop!_ What are you doing?”

“For every second you continue lying to me, I will unravel this. If I get to the roots and you have not told me where you’ve hidden the controller, your Padawan game privileges will be revoked for the rest of the evening.”

“ _Obi-Wan!_ ”

“I’m sorry— _who?_ ” He gave her a look like he didn’t know who she was talking about, continuing to unravel the braid until it met the base of the first bead.

“ _Please!_ ” Iza grabbed for his fingers and sobbed out when he struck her across the knuckles. “Please stop! _Obi-Wan_ —”

“I don’t know who this man is you’re calling out to,” blue eyes shifted from the braid to the younger woman and he heaved an impatient huff. “But I do not think he is going to help you.”

“ _Ne’tra! Black! The stars are **black**! They’re fucking **BLACK**!_”

He stopped. Releasing the braid, Obi-Wan grunted when Iza pushed him out of her way and headed into the washroom. A few moments later, she stalked back out and threw the controller at his feet. One hand grasped the end of her unraveling braid while she stared at him with _real_ hurt in her eyes. The gold was bleeding into them again. He had most definitely crossed a line.

“There’s your stupid controller,” she sounded like she was going to break into pieces if he said or did the wrong thing again. “I was only playing a game _master_.”

“Darling,” he kept his tone as soft and _like himself_ as possible. “Iza—”

“Do not speak to me. I am… _angry_ with you.” Still clutching the end of her braid, Iza turned and crawled onto the bed, grabbing the ugly comforter and dragging it up around her shoulders. Half of a minute passed before the blanket seemed to shiver and he could hear her smothering the harsh, upset sound of her crying with the pillow beneath her head.

Obi-Wan was at a loss. He had a feeling he knew what had set her off and he felt horrible for it. At the time, it had not occurred to him that threatening to take the Padawan game privileges would trigger such a response—but he honestly should’ve known better. Stooping to pick the controller up and set it on the table, he cautiously crossed over to the bed and hesitated before climbing onto it. If Iza noticed, she wasn’t going to acknowledge him. Settling down on his spot beside her, he gave it a few minutes before he reached across the space between them and gently hooked an arm around her to bring her back against his chest. She didn’t fight him—surprisingly—though she did curl up tighter and cover her face with her free arm. That was fine. If it made her feel better to block him out like that, then she could do that. It would not keep him from tucking her in close or planting kisses to the back of her neck in an attempt to silently apologize. If she’d made any sort of indication that she did not want these things, he would stop.

“My darling girl,” he wrapped his arm around her tight and buried his face in her hair. “Please forgive my thoughtlessness. I did not mean to hurt you.”

“I’m cold,” her voice was muffled by the arm draped across her face, but he heard her clearly enough. “I cannot… there’s static. Everything is static.”

Already he was peeling the blanket away and pulling her even tighter against his chest. His fingers began blindly seeking hers out and while she gave him one hand easily enough, Iza did not seem to want to relinquish her hold on her braid long enough to give him the other.

“May I have you, my darling?”

“I can’t let go.” She shook her head and grasped the plaited lock tighter. “It will come apart.”

“Iza,” carefully, he turned her over so she faced him, unsurprised when she refused to meet his gaze. “My girl, will you listen to me for a moment? _Really_ listen?”

Iza nodded.

“Please look at me, darling,”

She hesitated before shifting her eyes upward. They’d gotten brighter. He did not have much time. Palming her cheek, he stroked his thumb along the soft swell of it and held her gaze until he knew she would not be able to look away.

“I know what this symbolizes for you, my sweet girl,” he extended a finger and brushed it over the length of the still-woven part of the braid. “But you _must_ understand that even if it comes loose during this game, it changes nothing. I am still here. I am still very much bonded within you, darling. And you—whether you have realized it or not— _are_ my apprentice.”

The brunette looked at him strangely, but didn’t speak. He could see her eyes watering as she struggled to keep from blinking. He hated using this trick on her sometimes, but it was effective for driving his points home and pulling her back to the present where she needed to be.

“Tyranus can think what he wants, but you will not be his acolyte. His lessons are nothing more than academics. _I_ am training you. _I_ am teaching you. You will get all of your true experience with _me_.”

“Anakin…?”

Perhaps he should not have compelled her so deeply. He had not meant to restrict her ability to form coherent sentences.

“Yes darling, Anakin will as well.” Smiling, he continued the slow passes of his thumb over her cheek. “I do hope you understand that I will not abandon you, my darling. Not for anything. Certainly not over a silly game.”

Iza nodded slowly and her hold on the braid loosened a little, though she still seemed hesitant to let go. At least her eyes were starting to lose some of that bright gold. He had wanted to keep her as calm as possible during this trip. If his _plan_ was going to work, he needed her relaxed and agreeable.

“Would you like to bond with me, darling?”

Her whole damn face lit up. Obi-Wan had not expected such a reaction at all. It occurred to him that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d asked to bond with her— _truly_ bond and not just for the sake of pulling her back into herself or intensifying their lovemaking. He suddenly wondered if the others had been bonding with her. Catcher had, perhaps. The man had spoken of how Iza’s light had gone nearly black. But he could not be sure about Anakin. Humming softly, Obi-Wan shut his eyes to release her from the compulsion and leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead.

“Which position would you like to use?”

“ _Kar’ta_.”

He really should have known. It was her favorite, after all. Leaning back to look at her, he trailed his fingertip down the side of her face and lightly tapped her chin.

“You will need to be mindful,” he warned. “We cannot indulge in the after effects, darling.”

Iza eyed him like she was thinking something over. Out of habit, he reached his way into the Force just long enough to feel _confliction_ starting to well up within her. Ah. He understood. She wanted the bonding experience in full, but also did not want to pass up the opportunity entirely because she could not have it. Gently combing his fingers into her hair, he kissed her forehead again and sighed quietly.

“I will cut you a deal, darling,” it wasn’t as though he hadn’t been thinking about it anyway. Her little fantasy game had wormed its way into his head and given him _ideas_ and those _ideas_ would surely lead them straight back into this bed later. “We will bond and afterwards, I will take you to the club—as my Padawan. And when we have had our fill of fun there— _if you have behaved_ —perhaps I will make sure your needs are met when we return.”

“I do not want to disrupt the other game,” Iza spoke softly, looking up at him with a light frown. “I… can be patient.”

“Are you sure?” It surprised him that she was willing to give up the chance to finally get release. He was quite proud of her for not begging after almost three full days of torment. He also had to admit that he was curious to see just how long she could last if he continued the taunting. She would certainly be fun to play with once he was ready to give her what she craved. She was always a delight as far as he was concerned, but there was just something _different_ about the way she behaved when he deprived her of something she wanted and rewarded her with it when she was patient enough to wait.

“It isn’t… fair to you if we play my game and not yours.” The confliction was waning into something that felt like _acceptance_. “I am grateful for the offer, my love. But you do not need to make such a deal. I will behave.”

“You have such an obsession with _fairness_ , darling,” chuckling quietly, he dropped a soft kiss to her lips and playfully tapped her chin again. “But if this is what you want, then this is how we shall proceed.”

“It’s what I want, my Obi-Wan,” hearing her say his name cemented it for him. Had she called him some form of _Master_ , he might have started the questioning process over again just to be extra sure. “I _am_ enjoying myself. I want you to know that.”

“I’m glad to hear it, darling,” he truly was. There had been moments where he worried he might be doing _too much_ or behaving in a manner that would completely ruin the experience for her. He knew Iza was very eager to keep him pleased, which was why he kept such close tabs on her through their bond in the Force to make sure she was not outright lying during check-ins. He knew her limits and what to look out for and the difference between _nervousness_ and true anxiety within her. He was careful when moments arose where she seemed genuinely _scared_ of something but would not tell him what that something was, easing back and tiptoeing until she relaxed. Most of the time it seemed she was frightened by the end of a game, or the threat of one. He could understand and sympathize with not wanting to lose the comfortable feelings that came with these scenarios that they’d come to enjoy playing out. He often didn’t want to let go of them either. But _her_ mind was not stable enough anymore, and allowing her to wallow in such things was not healthy. He had tried multiple times to gently explain that he was never trying to take these things from her. They had simply _ended_ and it was time to start something new. Sometimes she seemed to understand. Other times, she behaved as though he was trying to take her entire life away. In the end, it usually worked out. _Usually._

“May I ask just one favor?” Her voice was so quiet that he almost hadn’t heard her.

“You may,” Obi-Wan nodded, tipping his head curiously.

“Don’t do this again,” Iza held the braid up and pinched her brows together, looking as though she were trying desperately to keep her composure. “I know… I know how silly it is but when you started taking it down all I could see was _his_ face and I… _please_ don’t do it, Obi-Wan. Please, my love, I will do anything you ask in return. _Please._ ”

“Come here,” gathering her against his chest once more, Obi-Wan rolled onto his back and let her cuddle into him in a manner that was most comfortable for her. When she was situated, he ran his fingers through her hair and leaned up to press soft, sweet kisses over her face. “I truly did not mean to hurt you that way, darling. I will not do it again. You have my word.”

“I’m sorry to ask such a thing—”

“No,” shaking his head, he heaved a quiet sigh and brought her down so their foreheads touched. “You do not have to apologize. You should not even need to ask me not to behave that way. I will not touch your braid like that and I will not make those threats again, darling. I will not cause this kind of discomfort for you.”

“Your beastly behaviors typically do not bother me,” shutting her eyes, Iza nuzzled her nose against his and shrugged. “But I could feel what I felt that day on the cruiser starting to come back. I…”

“Quiet, darling,” he kissed her gently and pulled her up a little higher until their chests were aligned just right. “Push those things out into the Force and reach for me. Let me have you. It’s been too long.”

~*~*~*~

Of all the things Iza expected him to pull out of the extra travel bag he’d brought, a stark white clingsilk lace dress had not been one of them. It looked _expensive_ and felt expensive, the short hem of the skirt tickling her skin as it slid along her thighs as they walked. She caught the eye of more than one person as she passed them, but perhaps that was because of the beaded braid swinging freely against her cheek as she walked beside Obi-Wan. He wore his staple black uniform he typically saved for trips to Serenno, the heavy cape billowing lightly behind him. He had allowed her the privilege of a cloak during the walk, claiming it was to keep the fabric from picking up anything _nasty_ that might be in the air. Iza was pretty sure it was because he had not allowed her to wear anything underneath it and the upper half of the dress did not have quite as much coverage as the lower half. It was amusing to her that he seemed concerned about such a thing when he’d had no issue at all bringing her to this place dressed in little more than a single layer of mesh and a collar, but she had not argued.

“Are you warm enough, my dear?”

Iza looked up at him, shaken from her thoughts, and knit her brows at him. What sort of funny question was that?

“Master?”

“You keep pulling at your cloak,” he gestured before lightly resting his fingertips against her lower back to steer her down the street that would lead them to the club.

“Oh,” she hadn’t noticed. “I’m fine, thank you, Master.”

“Nervous?”

“A bit,” she wanted to stay as _in character_ as possible. While her normal self was positively ecstatic to be going back to this place, she knew a relatively innocent little Padawan would likely have a terrible case of butterflies. “You said this club was not like the Outlander?”

“No, it is not.”

“Will I not be allowed to dance?” Iza saw his mustache twitch and the light purse of his lips meant to keep the smile off of his face. Her feigned innocence was amusing him.

“I’m not sure it would be _wise_.” He said once he’d been able to get his facial features back to something a bit more neutral.

“What are we meant to do?” She tilted her head and gave one of her soft, wide eyed looks. Iza swore she heard him growl. He was such a sucker for that expression. “What sort of club does not allow dancing?”

“You will find out soon, my dear,”

The familiar thrum of Heavy Isotope was steadily getting louder as they approached and Iza welcomed the hum it put into her body once they were close enough. For a place that had felt like such a nightmare the year prior, it had such a comforting presence to it now. She was not sure if it was because she no longer lived her life in the Light or if she had finally become comfortable in a setting such as this. Honestly, she didn’t care. Making a soft noise when Obi-Wan halted her just outside, she turned to look at him curiously and tilted her head in silent question.

“ _Darling_ ,” he spoke softly, fixing her with a serious look. “I will warn you once more to be very prepared for more attention than you may want. If you decide you wish to leave—”

“ _Ge’tal ka’ra_.” She remembered. She had prepared herself as much as she could during the walk. She would be _fine_.

“Good girl,” smiling, Obi-Wan reached to unfasten the catch holding her cloak closed and paused. “ _Force_ ,”

“What’s the matter, Master?”

“I’ve forgotten the damn collar,” he genuinely looked upset with himself. Patting at his pockets, he cussed quietly and scrubbed a hand over his beard. “Darling, we must go back.”

“What? But—”

“I will not bring you inside without it.” He shook his head and moved to start leading her back the way they came but Iza had planted her feet and refused to move. “ _Iza_ ,”

“ _No_.”

He paused and went a bit rigid, turning his head just _slightly_ to look at her.

“What did you just say?”

She clamped her lips shut and stared down at her toes, fighting the need to brush the stupid braid back when it swung into her line of sight. She could see his shadow moving beside hers before the toes of his boots came into view and she genuinely flinched when his hand slipped beneath her chin to lift her head.

“What did you just say to me?”

Iza didn’t want to repeat it.

“You have ten seconds.”

“I said _no_ , sir,” she whispered, trying not to look so much like she was visibly bracing herself for a slap. He’d never struck her during one of these games, but she wasn’t even sure _which_ game they were playing right now and his stupid Serenno robes were throwing her off horribly. She had a feeling they were meant to.

“Mm,” he lowered his hand to the front clasp of her cloak and yanked it open, pulling the fabric from her shoulders and giving her a push towards the entrance of the club. “Go on.”

Iza stared at him, confused.

“You do not want to go back with me, then you can go inside without me. You’re the one who wanted to come here, after all.”

“But you said—”

“I know perfectly well what I’ve said, my dear,” he smiled at her kindly. The expression was out of place for how tense everything felt between them. “It is _you_ who wishes to ignore my warning— _Padawan_.”

Well, at least she could breathe a little easier knowing where his attitude was directed. He did not have to know that her bratty refusal had really come from _her_ and not the character she was playing. Looking between Obi-Wan and the entrance to the club, Iza straightened and lifted her chin.

“I _will_ go on my own. I do not need you to lead me around like a lost child,” taking a step back from him, Iza half expected him to follow. He didn’t. Deciding it was probably better not to waste any more time, she turned on her heel and started to walk away from him. She did not hear his footsteps behind her and actually began to get a little nervous the closer she got to the doorway. Would he truly let her go into this place by herself? After what had happened the last time, would he _really_ —

“Foolish girl,” a hand curled around her upper arm and dragged her back, hauling her down the street at a pace she could hardly keep up with. “Do you honestly think I’ll let you in there alone, Iza?”

“I do not understand why we must go all the way back!” Waving her free hand, she nearly pouted at him. “There are shops on every corner, Obi-Wan. Can’t you just… get another one?”

“ _No_.” He stopped at the curb and flung an arm out to flag down a cab. Walking all the way back would take too long and while they had several hours to continue their game, they’d already wasted enough time.

“Why not?”

“Ask me another question and I will—” he paused and shut his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “Please be silent, darling. If you want to be rewarded, you will behave like you promised and _be quiet._ ”

Iza tugged out of his hold and bunched her shoulders, leaning away from him a little bit. They had just spent all of that time walking all the way down here and now they would have to go all the way back just because of a stupid strap of leather. She didn’t understand why he couldn’t just walk into one of these shops and purchase another one. What was so special about the one back at the hotel? Knowing him, he’d probably found one that matched the dress to the shade and wasn’t willing to put anything else on her. Her eyes stayed lowered as he wrapped her cloak around her shoulders again and she ignored the gentle kiss he pressed to her temple before he ushered her into the taxi. She would be silent. She would not say a single fucking word to him again, if that was what he wanted. But she would not stifle her displeasure at being made to leave before they’d really even gone inside. She would throw these things out into the Force as loud and obnoxiously as she could. Like banging a hydrospanner against a hollow durasteel wall, she let her irritated thoughts flow out of her until she heard Obi-Wan grunt beside her and felt the light nudge of his arm against hers.

She still refused to look up. When they reached the hotel and he’d given the man extra credits to stay parked outside and wait for them, Obi-Wan took hold of the brunette by the wrist and pulled her from the cab silently. He said nothing all the way up to the room and once the door had closed behind them, he rounded on her and threw his arms out at his sides.

“Would you like to tell me why you’re so damn upset that I refuse to walk you into that place without a collar on? Because I think I’ve told you about a hundred times now that your _safety_ is what’s important here, my darling. I apologize if this has ruined the fun of the game for you but it is a _very_ serious thing— _especially_ when these deviants do not know that you are **_not_** actually a Padawan.”

“Why don’t _you_ start by telling me why you couldn’t just _buy_ a new one! Are you that fussy about _my_ appearance that you _must_ have something that matches? I’m sure _one_ of those stores would have something in _virgin white_.”

Obi-Wan eyed her a moment before poking his tongue into his cheek and giving a short, dry laugh. He shook his head and turned away from her, rubbing a finger across his brow.

“I do not think this is a good idea. Neither of us is—”

“ _You promised_.”

“I said if you _behaved_.”

“ _And I did!_ ” Iza walked around him so he would look at her, eyes wide and half full of tears. “I was _good_ for you! I did not beg after we bonded, I did not make any noise when you put your mouth on me in the shower, I did not come like you’ve _insisted_ even though I wanted to, but I made sure that _you_ did. I made sure _you_ got everything you wanted. I was a good girl, Obi-Wan. You cannot be upset that I feel _cheated_ out of my reward.”

“You will _have_ your reward,” he looked a bit guilty, though he sounded like he’d already made up his mind. “But not tonight.”

“I do not want to play with you anymore.” Iza whispered, reaching up behind her to start unfastening the dress. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks before she could fully turn away from him and begin to make her way to the washroom and she half expected to hear some sithspit about _guilt trips_ again when he followed after her. Instead, she got a set of arms wrapped tight around her middle that pulled her back against his chest, his bearded cheek coming to rest against hers.

“It is not a punishment, darling,” he squeezed her to him and turned to kiss the side of her head. “I just do not think tonight is a good night for this. We need a proper break.”

“I do not _want_ a break!”

“What you _want_ and what you _need_ are two very different things, my darling girl,”

“You are going back on _everything_ you’ve said to me. You said if I rested with you, that we did not need to take a break. That we would bond and go to the club and have _fun_. You are taking my game from me and you promised you wouldn’t.”

“Iza,” he sighed into her hair and shook his head. “I am not taking anything from you. I have not said we are to stop. I told you quite plainly you will still be rewarded for your good behavior. You only need to be patient.”

“ _I **have** been patient_.” Iza thumped a fist against her thigh and huffed. “You’re so damn fussy over a _collar_. We could have just picked another one up. There was no need for any of this.”

Obi-Wan made an almost irritated sound behind her, his hold loosening until he was pulling away completely. At first, Iza wasn’t sure how to react to that. She didn’t want to turn and look at him. She was still too annoyed with him for that. But when she heard the sound of something being unzipped, she tipped her head enough to glance back over her shoulder.

“Here,” he came back over and held out a flat, square box. It looked like something an expensive piece of jewelry might come in. Iza wasn’t sure why he was giving it to her. Looking from the box to him, she tentatively took it and just stared at it for a moment.

“What is this?” She asked, sliding her thumb along the side to try and find where it opened.

“You will see.”

Iza didn’t want to open it. Already she had a terrible feeling that whatever was inside was going to make her feel incredibly guilty for her behavior and she just did not need more of that cold pressure on her chest. It was hard enough having to fight off the need she had to throw an honest to goodness tantrum. All of the pent up frustration from being deprived on top of the funny things her head had been doing to her were getting to her as it was. This _tiff_ they were having was really testing the limits of her restraint and she was sure that opening this box would pop those floodgates right on open. Shaking her head, she pushed the box back into his hands and turned away from him. He said nothing. There was a soft _hm_ , but no words were spoken. She heard him open the box instead, heard the soft jingle of something metal, and then gasped when the cool slide of it was closing around her neck. Iza did not jerk away or flinch as he fastened the slim metal ring around her throat, but she frowned when she heard something that sounded like a standard key lock being snapped into place. His lips were warm against the back of her neck and the gust of breath from his heavy sigh raised little goosebumps over her skin.

“I love you, darling,” he murmured, giving the edge of her ear a light nip before he refastened the buttons she’d undone on the dress. “But you are so terribly spoiled.”

He nudged her lower back to urge her towards the washroom and though she hesitated, Iza slowly followed the silent order. When she got to the doorway, she felt all of the air rushing out of her. He’d fastened what looked like simple silver ring choker around her neck. It was no wider than her finger, etched with an intricate design along the surface that led to a woven knot of metal centered at the base of her throat. In the center of the knot sat a single blue gemstone in just the _perfect_ shade. It was a collar. A _proper_ one. Not one of the leather novelties she’d seen in the clubs before and that he’d once fastened around her neck. This one had _meaning_. This one had _purpose_. This one was a visible _promise._ No one would be allowed to mistake her as just a simple _pet_ again. They would know that she was _his_. She could wear it proudly and she could wear it _all the time_. He was right. She was _terribly_ spoiled. Her legs wobbled and her head spun and the tiny cry of his name that left her throat should have been followed by her knees hitting the floor of the washroom. Instead, he caught her mid-fall and held her to him tightly, bowing his head to kiss her face so her tears would not fall and stain her dress.

“I’m sorry,” her fingers grasped at the collar of his robes before she was making attempts to cup his head and hold him still. “My Obi-Wan, _my darling_ ,”

“Quiet,” his tone was gentle as he lifted her off of her feet and carried her to the bed where he sat with her on his lap. “Do not cry,”

“Obi-Wan,” Iza skimmed her fingers through his beard, pushing her forehead into his. “Forgive me. Forgive me for being such a wretched girl.”

“But you are _my_ wretched girl,” his thumbs swept away the tears his mouth had missed and he kissed her sweetly, smiling faintly when he pulled back. “Do you see why I could not just _buy_ another? How would anyone ever know you are _mine_ if you wear something that can be bought in a store, darling?”

She did not know what to do with herself. Iza was stuck between wanting to sob out the guilt in her chest and continuing to beg him for his forgiveness. Her fingers kept brushing through his beard and down the sides of his neck and she paused when they caught hold of a slim chain. Tearing her eyes away from his, she lifted the chain to inspect it and found a tiny key hanging from the end. Beside it, a pendant in the same intricate woven knot as the one at her throat. This too, held a blue gem at its center. They matched. This was how everyone would know. The warm press of his lips against her forehead startled her, but she melted into him when he skimmed his mouth to her ear and kissed that too before giving a playful tug with his teeth.

“Say it for me, darling,” his hand came up and his fingers closed over hers, clamping her palm over the pendant hanging from his neck. “ _Tell me_ ,”

“I’m yours,” Iza leaned into him even more, tilting her head when he began nuzzling at her neck. “I’m all yours, my darling Obi-Wan,”

“Good girl,” he grazed the curve of her jaw with his teeth and scattered a few more tiny kisses across her skin before reluctantly pulling back. Releasing her hand, he brushed his knuckles down the side of her face and accepted the soft kiss she stole from him, smiling against her lips. He gave the lightest tap to the end of her nose when they broke away, shaking his head with a chuckle before his features sobered and he gently nudged her. “Come on darling. I fear that cabbie may charge triple if we keep him waiting much longer.”

“Are we going back?” She’d been so certain that he’d made up his mind about staying.

“Of course,” he gave her a look as if to ask if she were feeling all right. “This is what you wanted to do, is it not, Padawan Tacor?”

Blinking rapidly Iza had to take a minute to collect herself before nodding and giving a light, grateful smile.

“Yes Master,” she got up from his lap, smoothing down her skirt and giving a quick check to make sure her hair had not fallen out of place. Master Kenobi did not tolerate unkempt braids, after all. She jumped a little when he slid her cloak on over her shoulders, lifting her chin for him so he could clasp it closed. Her eyes fell on the pendant hanging from his neck and she reached to take it between her fingers, sweeping her thumb over the gem.

“Do you like it?” He asked, raising a brow when she looked up at him.

“I do,” she nodded, wishing she could break character and give him another kiss. “The color is… perfect.”

“Mm,” sliding his hand around between her shoulders to guide her out of the room, Obi-Wan shot her a knowing look. “I’m glad you approve.”

“May I ask how long you’ve had it?”

The smile on his lips grew slightly and he gave a quick sigh, nudging her out of the hotel and towards the cab still waiting near the curb.

“A while,” when he bent to open the door for her, he murmured, “I had them made _months_ ago. Funny how that works, isn’t it, darling?”

“Yes,” she glanced at him over her shoulder and barely resisted the urge to kiss his cheek. “Very funny,”

“Many apologies my friend,” Obi-Wan stuck his hand into his pocket as he addressed the cabbie and produced a handful of credits to pass up to him. “I hope this is enough for the trouble.”

Looking back at the two, the cabbie took the palmful of credits and snorted before turning back around.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to wait for a guy and his baby Jedi,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Am I takin’ ya back to Hollowed Ground or what?”

“Yes please,” Obi-Wan did not like the tone of the man’s voice but they wouldn’t have to endure him for long. They rode in silence—thankfully—and he caught sight of Iza idly playing with the silver collar while she looked out of the window. It would have made him smile to see it if he did not know what lay in store for her. He had not been joking when he said taking her into the club with that braid in would be like walking into a drug den with glitterstim in his palm. There were many wretched people in this universe and a great deal of them would love to get their hands on a sweet looking thing like her. The idea that she was something so _pure_ like a Padawan added to her appeal. It was disgusting, really. Most definitely the kind of filth Obi-Wan did not engage in. He could indulge her little fantasy simply because it did not involve such vile lechery. She wanted _pining_ that led to something sinful. She was not looking to be an _object_ for him.

“Master,” Iza’s quiet voice and gentle nudge to his knee brought him back to the present. “We’re here,”

“Right,” he pulled another obscene amount of credits from his pocket and passed them up to the cabbie before getting out, holding his hand out to her to help her step out after. As he was straightening Iza’s cloak, the cabbie leaned out of the window and flashed a greasy smile at the brunette.

“Have fun in there, sweetheart,” he winked and chuckled lowly. “Do yourself a big favor and try not to fight too much, eh? They like it better when ya don’t fight.”

Iza’s expression was one of horror as she watched the cabbie pull away from the curb. She heard Obi-Wan say something to her—something about ignoring the bastard—but her eyes were focused on the back of his head through the transparisteel. She felt a tug on her arm and ignored it; took a deep breath and reached into the Force, stretched out after the retreating car. She found the warmth she was looking for, hooked her fingers in it. The lights on the back of the cab turned red as the car stopped. Obi-Wan tugged at her again. The hand at her side spread its fingers wide and then clenched them into a tight fist. A horn began blaring in the street. She could no longer feel that warmth in the Force. She exhaled, dizzy, and turned to start walking with Obi-Wan. His hand rested lightly against her lower back and she heard him huff beside her.

“ _Not in public, darling_ ,” he growled, shooting her a dark look when she glanced up at him. “You’ve earned yourself a night on the floor for that.”

“He deserved it, sir,” she murmured back, stopping when he halted her so he could once again remove the cloak from her shoulders.

“That may be,” his fingers pinched her chin so he could give a quick look to her eyes. They had not brightened much. Thank the stars. “But you know better. Now— _Padawan_ ,” he needed a second to sink back into character. He had not expected her to fucking _murder_ a man in the street like that. “Are you ready?”

“Yes Master Kenobi,” she smiled brightly, nodding just as eagerly as she’d done before.

“All right,” giving her a quick look over, he sighed and offered his hand. “Let’s go in, shall we?”


	9. Is This What You Wanted?

If Iza thought she’d gotten attention the last time she’d been in this place, it was _nothing_ compared to the looks she got now as Obi-Wan led her through the dark, loud lower level of the club. He’d told her they would be going upstairs this time around. The crowd was apparently _a little less sleazy_ and the seating was _more comfortable_. It did not look any different to her. She did her best to look the part of an innocent, uneasy Padawan as she let her eyes wander around curiously and took in the sights of the other patrons. Much like before, there were various couplings in every available corner doing a multitude of devious things. A few times, she saw people lean over and whisper to their partners and watched the familiar wickedness of lust bleed into their eyes. This was when she’d choose to give startled, shy expressions and lean into Obi-Wan, turning her gaze to her feet while fighting back a smile. It was oddly thrilling to be the center of attention, but a bit nerve-wracking as well.

“Here,” Obi-Wan stopped near a long, plush sofa upholstered in dark velvet that she couldn’t quite identify the color of under the rosy lighting. He sank down on a cushion first and carefully drew her down onto his lap afterward, perching her near his knee so that she would be the first thing anyone saw when they approached.

“Master,” Iza shifted, looking uncomfortable. “Must I sit here?”

“Would you rather sit on the floor? It’s filthy.”

“I would like to be closer to you,” she gave a tiny tilt of her head and let the tiny braid slide across her cheek, poking out her bottom lip just a fraction. “You are the one who said to _stay close_ , after all,”

“Mm, I did,” it was damn tempting to reach out and haul her right down on top of where his cock rested behind his formal trousers, but he was not ready for that part of the game yet and neither was she. “But I think you are close enough, my dear,”

Iza’s pout became a light frown and she sighed, looking around the room again. More eyes were fixed on her now. There was a table in the corner where a man sat with a pile of credits in front of him and he appeared to be counting them. Something in her stomach clenched when he looked up at her and grinned wide, showing a mouthful of blackened teeth. The brush of Obi-Wan’s hand on her lower back eased some of the tension, but only for a moment.

“How much?” A raspy, accented voice asked, prompting her to look up. A heavy, well-dressed looking Twi’lek stood looking her over before his orange eyes flicked to Obi-Wan.

“Ten thousand.”

“ _Are you **thermal**?_” The man sputtered, waving a hand. “She’s damaged. I won’t go higher than five.”

“I won’t go lower than _ten_.” Obi-Wan gave a nonchalant shrug and waved his hand. “But I’ll make an exception for you,”

“ _Master_ —”

“Fifteen for you,” the older man ignored her and stared hard at the Twi’lek, watching as he grew flustered and muttered something about _Jedi filth_ before turning and walking away. “What a beastly man,”

“Master,” Iza had damn near dropped out of character and called him by his name. “What… what did he mean by _damaged?_ ”

“Hm?” Both brows went up curiously before Obi-Wan offered a soft smile and shook his head. “Do not listen to him, my dear. He was simply upset that I would not take his abysmal price.”

“And what if someone _does_ offer you the credits you are asking for?” They had not discussed that part.

“I do not intend to sell you off, if that is what you’re worried about.” Reaching up, Obi-Wan trailed his fingers along the length of her braid before tucking it behind her ear. “I will change the price as much as I need to. Ten thousand for one man, twenty for another. I will go as high as necessary. Do not fret, my Padawan,”

Iza felt extremely unsure about this, suddenly. She knew Obi-Wan could negotiate his way out of damn near anything if he had to so she really didn’t need to feel so concerned, but there was always going to be that _one_ person with all of the money under the stars who’d be able to throw whatever number of credits he wanted at his feet. As she gave a short nod of her head and turned to look around again, she sincerely hoped that _one_ person had not decided to come to this club tonight.

“Would you like a drink, my dear?”

“Please?” She had curbed her drinking in recent months because of her _lessons_ , but Iza felt like she was going to need half the bar if she was going to get through tonight in one piece. Especially if Obi-Wan intended to keep to his punishment of making her sleep on the floor.

“Will whiskey be sufficient or would you prefer something lighter?”

She really wanted a glass of starshine but she wasn’t sure the place even served it. 79’s had been the only bar in the galaxy that she knew of that had it readily available.

“Yes Master,”

Giving a nod, Obi-Wan raised a hand and hailed a waitress. Iza did her best to ignore the way the other woman brazenly flirted with him like she wasn’t even there while she took the order, but she felt herself bristling when she caught sight of the woman running her long nails through Obi-Wan’s beard. Ever the gentleman, Obi-Wan politely brushed her hand away and continued the conversation as though nothing had happened at all. The woman seemed disappointed but smiled brightly anyway before departing. When she’d gone, Iza let out an annoyed huff and squirmed uncomfortably in her spot. The sudden, low hum of that damn vibrating toy starting up made her jump and she gasped quietly, her back straightening as she squeezed her thighs together.

“Are you all right, my dear?”

Turning to look at him, Iza nodded, noticing that he had one hand tucked away in a pocket. A faint, blue glow emanated from inside and she _knew_ he was going to put her through hell for hiding that stupid thing earlier. At least he had not started it on full power like he’d done for most of the trip. She could handle the gentle buzz much easier than the stronger vibrations.

“You look flushed,” he tipped his head and reached up to brush a knuckle over her cheek. His other hand moved in his pocket and the vibrations became a fraction stronger.

“I’m…” Iza tried not to bring her hand to her mouth, pressing her lips together instead to stifle the whimper that wanted to rise in her throat. “I’m fine, Master. It’s… it’s a little warm up here, is all,”

“Is it?” The hand in his pocket moved again and Iza almost tipped backwards when she clenched her thighs together. “I hadn’t noticed.”

The brunette only nodded and breathed hard through her nose, letting out a tiny yip of surprise when Obi-Wan gave his leg a quick bounce. He said nothing when she looked at him. He just smiled in that gentle way of his and tipped his head questioningly. When he turned the speed up again, Iza grasped at his trouser-leg and shut her eyes tight. Another bounce of his leg had her sliding back on his lap and she grunted when her shoulders hit his chest. She kept her knees snapped shut, even when he began running his free hand along the top of her thigh. His fingers grazed the hem of her skirt, nudged it upwards—

“ _Master_ ,” she looked up at him as though she was both shocked and nervous to feel his touch on her skin. His hand retreated and settled on her knee instead and he just _smiled_ as though he’d done nothing wrong. The speed changed again. He was hitting the higher levels now and she could hardly keep still. While she was careful not to make a sound, her breathing was so erratic and heavy that she was sure it was audible over the music. His fingers started tracing little patterns over her skin and the damn toy began buzzing even faster. Heavy, hot pressure was beginning to build low in her belly, threatening to burst at any given second if she was not careful. Tipping her head back to look at him, she swallowed hard and squeezed her legs until they started to shake. “I’m gonna come.”

“No you’re not,” he smiled and abandoned his invisible drawings, choosing to reach up and wrap her braid around his fingers instead. “You know you’re not allowed.”

“Master Kenobi,” Iza didn’t know how to stave it off without shutting herself down completely and he’d forbidden her from doing that. “Please, I can’t…”

“But you can,” he soothed, using the ends of her hair to tickle her collarbone. “I know you can,”

She was no longer able to keep still. Squirming and twisting on his lap, Iza fought desperately to keep her orgasm at bay. She thought of every vile thing she could that would not completely screw her brain up, focused on anything and everything that wasn’t the stupid vibrating toy. The need started to pass. The pressure began to wane as her mind became too distracted to worry about pleasure. And then the speed kicked up again and she let out a sound like a mewling sob.

“ _Please_ ,” she couldn’t even look at him as she begged, worried that one look at him and his wicked face would be the thing that truly made her lose control. “I can’t take it. Master Kenobi I can’t take it.”

“Are you going to be mindful and curb your jealousy?” _This fucking **bastard**._

“Yes Master,” she nodded, tipping her head back and looking at him long enough so he would not fuss that she had not done so when spoken to. She felt the rumble in his chest as he hummed and mulled over his decision, and wished he would not take his time like this. Then, the vibrations began to slow to a full stop and she sagged back against him with a relieved whimper. Her breathing still came in quick, uneven puffs and she felt stupidly dizzy as her body tingled from head to toe. That _had_ to be the closest she’d gotten to losing it. There’d been some damn close calls—the shower had certainly been one of them—but she had not been left feeling so vulnerable and sensitive like she was now.

“What color are the stars tonight, darling?” Obi-Wan whispered, lightly running his fingertips over her cheek. Iza weakly raised a hand. She needed a minute.

“ _Cin_ ,” she rasped finally when she was able to get enough sense back to breathe and speak at the same time.

“Can you sit up?” His voice was gentle and so were his hands as he settled them on her waist, ready to help her if need be. Nodding, the brunette took a quick, deep breath and carefully pushed herself upright again, grasping at one of his wrists when her head spun and her vision greyed out for half a second. Behind her, Obi-Wan sat up straighter and leaned into her back. She could feel him speaking and thought she heard another voice before a glass was pressed to her lips and water was being tipped into her mouth. “Small sips, my darling,”

She did her best not to drink greedily like she wanted to, allowing him to take the glass away and give her time to breathe when she’d swallowed down a fair amount of it. The cold liquid seemed to help. The dizziness began to drain away and she felt more alert. Snuggling back against his chest, Iza tipped her head into his and breathed a deep, relaxed sigh.

“Thank you,” she murmured, hoping he would not be too terribly bothered that she had not tacked on _sir_ or _master_. It did not feel right to thank anyone but _Obi-Wan_ in that moment. A soft hum sounded in her ear before warm lips pressed against her temple.

“You’re welcome, darling,” she could tell he was hesitating. “Do you want to continue or would you like to leave?”

“We can stay,” she turned and smiled at him, barely resisting the urge to nudge her forehead into his. “I’m all right. I just made myself dizzy.”

He studied her a moment and she felt him nudging around along their bond. She would not block him out. Letting out a relenting sigh, he followed it with a smile and gave a nod.

“Very well,” dropping another kiss to her temple, he leaned back again and gave her thigh a pat. “You’ve mussed your hair, my dear,”

“I’m sorry, Master,” Iza reached up to feel that her hair had indeed come a bit loose from the knot she’d spent forever twisting it into. “Should I go fix it?”

“No,” he shook his head and reached to playfully tug her braid. “ _This_ is what I want to see kept neat. I think your messy hair is quite endearing, my dear Padawan.”

Iza did not expect to _blush_. Out of all the ways she could have reacted, turning a deep shade of scarlet and feeling a strange rush of butterflies had not been the one she’d pick. She suddenly felt oddly shy, too. Letting out a short, quiet laugh, she ducked her chin and hid her smile behind a hand.

“What’s all this?” Obi-Wan sounded amused. “Have I embarrassed you?”

She shook her head and the stupid smile got wider. _What the hell was happening?_

“You’re a very funny girl, Padawan Tacor,” he mused, propping his cheek against his knuckles. When she was able to, Iza turned back to look at him again and studied his face for a long time. It was strange how he could make her feel like she was actually eighteen all over again, painfully pining away and wishing he would spare her more than just simple smiles in the hallways or a quick _hello_ if he’d seen her with her Master. It had been easier when they were much younger and she’d been free to follow him around the Temple until he had to attend a class or go somewhere with Master Qui-Gon. Those days seemed like nothing more than a dream now. Like she hadn’t experienced any of it at all. But sometimes, when she would lie awake beside him unable to sleep, one quick glance at him would bring it all flooding back. If she had known that he would eventually be hers, perhaps she would not have forced herself to suffer through the torment of _wanting_. She hadn’t realized that she’d been staring as hard as she was until Obi-Wan’s brows lifted, followed by the corner of his mouth. “Something wrong?”

“No, Master,” she shook her head again and glanced away, vaguely aware of the waitress who’d finally returned with their drinks. She heard the woman spout apology after apology and start going on about one of the _regulars_ and how he was always supposed to be served first. Iza decided to block her out so she would not succumb to another round of possessive jealousy, instead turning her attention upwards to the next level of the club. _This_ seemed to be where the dance area—or what was meant to be a dance area—was located. She could not see much from where she sat, but there appeared to be booths and tables. Atop those tables stood figures of various genders and non-genders, moving smoothly to the music while those sat in the booths watched either with mild interest, great interest or no interest at all. Iza had taken to watching a Togruta with waist-length lekku, high montrals and a striking facial pattern when she felt the warmth of Obi-Wan’s chest against her back and heard him murmur lowly in her ear.

“ _Mouth_ ,”

The response was automatic. She parted her lips for him without thought or question and was rewarded by a pair of whiskey laden fingers sliding across her tongue. The burn was off-putting for a few seconds but it did not stop her from sucking the liquor from his skin. Doing her best not to whine when he withdrew from her mouth, Iza started to turn to look back at him when she was presented with her glass and a kind smile. She honestly needed to sit down with him one day and ask how it was he could switch back and forth so easily between such lechery and sweetness like this.

“It’s strong,” he warned as she took the glass from him. “I’m sure you can handle yourself but you’re also very _petite_ , my dear. Do take care not to overindulge.”

“Yes Master,”

“Not a word of this to anyone at the Temple,” sitting back once more with his glass in hand, he gave her a stern look and took a small sip. “I’m already risking my neck bringing you to such a place. If anyone knew I allowed you to become intoxicated in my presence, I’d likely be expelled from the Order.”

“I will not tell a soul, Master Kenobi,” it felt a bit strange to talk about it as though they both still had anything to worry over. Stranger still that she suddenly had an odd fear of being expelled alongside him. The absolute _shame_ of having one’s braid ripped away because they were deemed _unfit_ to become a Jedi for one stupid reason or another was actually quite terrifying. Taking a long sip from her glass, she pushed the thought out of her head and went back to watching the Togruta woman instead. She was very pretty, she’d decided, and had a very lovely body as well. Iza had not found herself lulled by the temptation of another woman since Asajj, but she could very much appreciate and admire something beautiful when she saw it.

“What are you askin’?” A familiar, gruff voice startled her out of her thoughts and she twisted to look up to find herself staring at what her brain had decided was _Catcher_. It was not, of course. But it was one of his brothers.

“I’m not,” Obi-Wan knew better. Looping his arm around Iza’s waist, he pulled her further back on his lap and tipped her chin up to show off the silver collar locked around her neck. “Not for sale,”

“Not lookin’ to keep,” the clone shrugged, brown eyes trailing along Iza’s form. “Just borrow.”

“ _Nu draar, di’kut_.” The brunette muttered, watching the clone’s eyes widen. She saw his gaze flick between her and Obi-Wan as a brow lifted, but before he had a chance to open his mouth, she spoke first. “ _Usen’ye._ ”

“You ought to teach her to mind her mouth,” the man pointed and scoffed, shaking his head.

“ _Nar’sheb_.”

“You’re lucky you’re collared, _cyar’ika_.” Snorting, the clone gave her one last dirty look before turning on his heel to leave. “You’d be learnin’ some fuckin’ _manners_ from me and my belt if you weren’t.”

Iza’s eyes followed him until he disappeared around a corner, something hot and violent bubbling in her belly and surging its way up into her chest at the mere idea of him trying to do _anything_ to her with his belt. Still, she couldn’t shake the shock of seeing one of Catcher’s brothers in a place like this. And to have such a disgusting attitude on top of it? She understood that a lot of the clones were dealing with some very serious shit after the war. The men she’d liberated and the ones who’d made their way to Starscape _all_ had some form of _something_ going on. But who the fuck didn’t? And none of the men she’d encountered had _that_ sort of problem. He certainly needed a different kind of help.

“Are you all right?” Obi-Wan asked, drawing her attention.

“I’m fine,” she waved a hand and moved to scoot back to her spot. When she looked up to the third level, the Togruta woman was no longer there. It saddened her a bit. She’d enjoyed watching her dance. “Master Kenobi?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“What’s upstairs?”

She thought she heard him choke and twisted to see him trying to discreetly use his sleeve to catch a bit of whiskey that had dribbled down his chin. When their eyes met, he smiled sheepishly and cleared his throat.

“Upstairs is…” he hesitated and Iza wasn’t sure if it was because he did not want to tell her or if he was trying to get the burn of whiskey out of his throat. “ _That_ is the area that is most reminiscent of the Outlander. However, I do not believe we can go up.”

“Why not?”

“We are not _members_ of this establishment, my dear,” he smiled. “Just guests.”

“What’s it take to be a member?” Iza was genuinely asking now. Whether he would know it or not remained to be seen, but she was curious. Obi-Wan let out a laugh and shook his head at her.

“We are not joining this club, Padawan Tacor,” he gave a look as he sipped his whiskey and muttered into his glass, “ _You_ especially,”

“You could at least answer my question, Master Kenobi.”

“Money, my dear. _Money_.” His mustache twitched as the corner of his mouth quirked upward. “I would have thought the _thousands_ of credits I’m charging for you would have given that away.”

Honestly, she’d just been happy that he hadn’t priced her at anything under a thousand. Giving a tiny nod of her head, Iza turned back once more and tried not to sigh. She understood that for the sake of the game it was best not to try and nudge him into seeing if they even qualified for a membership. She just couldn’t help thinking that it would be nice to come back once in a while and not have to worry about the sleazier crowd if they could.

“Do not look so forlorn,” he gave her a light nudge. “If you wish to dance we can go back downstairs where we came through.”

“No thank you,” Iza shook her head and polished off what was in her glass, setting it aside and resting her hands in her lap. Honestly, she wasn’t entirely sure what she wanted to do anymore. She had expected a little more attention than this—both from the shady patrons _and_ Obi-Wan. His little stunt with the vibrating toy was not what she’d had in mind, either. He had barely been able to keep his hands off of her the last time they’d visited this place and while she had been much shyer about things before, she certainly was not now.

“Have you finished already?”

“Hm?” Looking over her shoulder, Iza raised an eyebrow and watched him gesture to the empty glass she’d set aside. Glancing at it and then back at him, she smiled sheepishly and shrugged a shoulder. “I suppose I have. It really isn’t that strong, Master,”

“Have you imbibed before?” His blue eyes narrowed in scrutiny. “Is this something you do often when you go to the Outlander?”

“I do not go to get _drunk_ , Master Kenobi. I go for fun. I think even Master Yoda would agree that we all need a _little_ fun in our lives now that the war is over.”

“Mm,” he made a face like he did not disagree. And then he fixed her with another strange, curious look. “You do not have fun in my presence?”

“Master,” Iza felt her chest clench painfully. Game or no game, something about those words made her hurt for him. Sliding back on his lap, she turned so she could look at him properly and gave a small shake of her head. “How can you ask such a thing?”

“It is just a question,” he shrugged and smiled. Something about it felt disingenuous. “You need not answer if you think it will hurt my feelings.”

“You don’t know how much I enjoy my time in your presence, Master Kenobi,” she felt that heavy sense of pining, suddenly. As though her younger self had suddenly possessed her and was making the confession for her. “I go to the Outlander for fun only because I cannot be with you always.”

His brow popped up high on his head and a funny look crossed his face. Iza wasn’t sure if this was an act on his end or if he was genuinely surprised. Hell—she wasn’t sure of _anything_ anymore at this point.

“My dear, I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying,” he tipped his head and moved to set his glass aside, casually resting his arm against her waist. “You _are_ always with me.”

“In the Force, yes,” tentatively, Iza nestled up a little closer and watched his expression grow curious. “But I…”

 _Nervous_. That was what this feeling was. She had gone so deep into it that she’d actually made herself anxious about making a confession to something he was already completely aware of. But she could not seem to shift into any other headspace than this one now. She _was_ eighteen again, fully confessing an attraction to one of the Order’s most esteemed Jedi Masters. Her nerves were shivering with every second she wasted hesitating and leaving him in suspense. Leaving them _both_ in suspense, really. She did not know how he would respond. Just like real life—there was no telling how Obi-Wan would choose to play his side of the game.

“Yes?”

Iza raised a hand and tried to ignore how her fingers were lightly trembling as she hesitantly touched them to his face. He gave a surprised look in response but said nothing just yet. She could not stop looking into his eyes. That soft, pretty blue she’d been so fond of for _years_. It sucked her back in so quickly and brought her back to a place in her head _no one_ had seen. Not even him. She started leaning in when his hand came up and halted her.

“My dear,” his voice was low, careful. “You mustn’t.”

The sweet, eighteen year old girl inside of her wanted to cry. _She_ wanted to cry. He had warned that he _might_ not take advantage of her advances, but this was not as simple as her flirting with him or grinding on his lap. These were real feelings that had been made to lie dormant for _years_. To have him stop her felt like an honest to goodness rejection and it _stung_.

“Master?” She didn’t like how shivery and confused she sounded. Obi-Wan’s eyes flicked back and forth for a moment and he squinted slightly as though silently gauging the situation. He inhaled deeply and gave a slow shake of his head.

“It is forbidden, my dear,” that didn’t seem to stop him from lowering his hand and resting it on her knee. He rubbed his thumb in slow passes in what she assumed was an attempt to soothe her without fully breaking character. “It is exactly the kind of thing that would get us both expelled from the Order.”

“How much?” A deep voice interrupted and jerked them both out of their private bubble. Obi-Wan looked _beyond_ irritated as he looked up at the patron and damn near bared his teeth.

“ _Piss off_. She’s **_mine_** ,” he pulled her a little tighter against his chest and untucked his pendant from the jacket he wore. Perhaps if he left it out, the offers would cease. The patron grumbled something in another language and wandered off. When Obi-Wan turned his attention back to Iza, her eyes were downcast and she was twisting the ends of her braid around her fingers. Reaching out, he gently pried her fingers away before she could start pulling it. He’d worked hard to kick her of her hair pulling and he would not let a silly fantasy game undo all of it. For a moment, he wasn’t sure how to continue. She seemed to require a check-in, but he had a feeling she would only tell him she was _fine_. She did not look fine and she did not feel fine. She felt very _sad_ and that simply would not do. “Will you look at me?”

She shook her head.

“Why not?”

Iza swallowed hard and pressed her lips together tightly.

“Iza,” he lifted her chin with a finger and caught sight of tears in her eyes before she turned away again. Perhaps he ought to have tried a different tactic on his end. He had not meant to upset her. Taking in another deep breath, he leaned over and brushed his lips against her ear, murmuring to her quietly, “You do not know how much it pains me to have to say _no_. You are not the only one who enjoys our time together.”

She turned to him then, green eyes still sad and damp with the uncried tears. She did not look as though she might shatter at any second anymore, so he would take that as a victory. He watched while she studied him with those glassy eyes and waited patiently. Iza shifted on him, sliding a leg across his thighs to straddle his lap. Her knee brushed across the hard ridge at the front of his formal trousers and he had to try and stifle the groan _and_ the urge to grab her by the hips and pull her snug against his pelvis. She wore the expression of a girl who seemed unsure of the situation, but was determined to get what she wanted at the same time. It was cute. It was also very fucking arousing. She tipped her head, leaned in— _Force_ , her lips were soft. The kiss was light and tentative; the kind of thing he’d expect from a younger girl trying to express her feelings to a man his age. _Stars above_ , he felt a bit like an old pervert with that thought in his head. Reminding himself that this was _just a game_ and that Iza was only five short years away from thirty, he pressed closer into the kiss and returned it just as tentatively, allowing her to be the one to break away.

“What the Order doesn’t know will not hurt them, Master Kenobi,” she said softly, her fingers gingerly plucking up the pendant settled in the center of his chest to study it. “And if they find out, _I_ have no qualms with leaving for you. I would not want you to lose your seat on the Council.”

“ _Darling_ ,” it’d slipped out. He hadn’t meant for it to. He watched her pick her head up as confusion flickered across her face. Shaking his head with a quiet laugh, he shut his eyes for a moment and cleared his throat. “My dear—I cannot ask you to do such a thing.”

“You would not have to ask,” she shrugged and offered a light smile. “You’ve earned your place there, Master Kenobi. It would be terribly wrong of me to drag… to drag you…”

“Iza?”

The brunette’s expression had gone a bit vacant as she trailed off. It was as though something in her head had clicked about the real life situation that had gone on between _all_ of them. Her head twitched. Just slightly. Just enough to jingle the lock at the back of her collar. Before the cold and the static and the numbness could start seeping in, long fingers tunneled into her bound hair and warm, whiskey flavored lips crushed hers beneath them. Iza whimpered into the kiss, grasping the front of his jacket when he pulled her closer. Her tongue skimmed along the inside of his mouth and he growled at her, giving it a light suck before she could retreat back behind her lips. He pulled back only enough to bite and suck her bottom lip, trailing to her chin and down her jaw while she tipped her head for him and squeezed her knees against his sides when his teeth found his favorite spot on her neck.

“Is this what you want?” Detangling his hand from her hair, Obi-Wan planted it on her hip and squeezed before smoothing it back to grab a good palmful of her ass and pull her in tighter. “Is this what you crave from me— _my sweet little Padawan?_ ”

“ _Yes Master_ ,” Iza did not care what sort of repercussions she suffered later for any noises she was making. She hardly cared that there were many pairs of eyes _watching_ as she was kissed and groped by a man they all assumed was her _Jedi Master_. It was thrilling, really. The whole fucking thing was one giant turn-on and it did not take long before she was rocking her hips into him, moaning softly as she buried her fingers in his hair while he marked up her neck.

“Quiet,” he whispered against her skin, chuckling as he purposely rolled his hips up from the sofa. “We must not draw attention to ourselves, my dear,”

“I do not care,” she honestly didn’t. Even if he was only scripting, Iza did not have a single care in the universe whether or not anyone watched.

“You ought to.”

Iza could not bury her face against his shoulder quickly enough to smother the soft cry of surprise when he started up the toy at the same time as he rocked up into her again. Her teeth sank into the thick wool of his jacket and she arched her hips forward to shamelessly grind against the erection tenting his trousers.

“You have done this before,” he murmured in a wicked tone that made her body clench and a muffled moan rumble in her throat. “You could not wait for me?”

“I have not,” she turned away from his shoulder and shook her head. “I promise, Master Kenobi. You just make me feel…”

“ _Yes?_ ” He nudged his head against hers, locking their gazes and slowly swapping the speed of that damn toy from high to low somewhere out of sight until she had to bury her face against his shoulder again. Leaning over, he nuzzled her ear and nipped it. “Don’t come, darling. Not yet.”

“Turn it off,” she pleaded, hips jumping when he cranked the speed instead. Not wanting a repeat of what had happened before, she turned and started kissing at his neck as much as he’d allow, blindly finding his earlobe and giving it a hard tug with her teeth. “You _must_ turn it off. I cannot have you in my mouth with it on. I will not be able to concentrate— _please_ Master Kenobi.”

“Do you even know what to do?” He asked in a teasing tone, turning the speed down for a few moments before switching it back to full. “ _Have you had **practice** with another?_”

“No Master,” Iza pressed her cheek to his shoulder and breathed in hard little puffs as she looked up at him and stuffed her knuckles in her mouth to stifle the moan that followed his next round of speed swapping. Whimpering around her fingers, she shivered and pressed her hips harder into his. “Will you teach me?”

“What a _wicked_ thing you are,” he traced a fingertip beneath her chin to lift it, a slow grin spreading across his lips when she squirmed on him and her eyes rolled up lightly with another smothered moan. He heard her whispering behind her fingers, pleading with him to turn the toy off. Part of him wanted to see if he could get her to last longer than before, but the other part did not want to cause another minor blackout because she was fighting so hard against an orgasm. That did not stop him from running his thumb over the glass surface of the controller until the digital dial could not go any higher. Iza tensed hard in his lap and pressed her face against his shoulder, _begging_ for his mercy while she fought desperately not to lose control. It was such a lovely thing to watch, really. Then, he tapped the center of the controller and shut it off, humming in amusement as Iza sank into his chest with a soft, relieved sob. Tucking the controller back into his pocket, he eased his arms around her and bowed to kiss the side of her head, whispering quietly, “What color are the stars tonight, darling?”

“ _Cin_ ,” she sounded like she might need a moment, but he did not detect anything out of place. When she picked her head up to look at him, it took every ounce of _his_ control not to roll her onto the sofa and just take her. Her sweet face was flushed enough for the rosiness to be seen beneath the lights above them, the pupils of her eyes blown out like she’d been dosed with some high-end designer spice. There was a light bit of spittle on her chin, he noticed, that likely came from biting his jacket and her fingers. Her forehead and cheeks were damp with sweat and she panted softly through swollen, parted lips as she gazed at him for a long moment and then shifted on him to sit up, purposely putting her weight down on his cock before rocking into him. He could see her thighs trembling lightly beneath the thin lace of her skirt. “ _Master Kenobi_ , please show me how,”

“Which do you want, my dear?” He gently grasped her chin between his fingers and traced her bottom lip with the tip of one, smiling when she poked her tongue out to steal a taste of it. “I can teach you anything you like, but you must decide where you would like to start.”

She didn’t answer verbally. Instead, Iza turned her head to take his finger between her lips and gave it a few tiny pulls of her mouth. He let out a low growl in return, easing a second one into her mouth and sliding them in a bit further. She played the part of the enthusiastic virgin quite well, he realized. It was both a little disturbing and _extremely_ tantalizing. They might need to revisit this in the future, if she was willing. Withdrawing his fingers from her mouth, he pursed his lips in amusement when she tried to follow, and gave a light tap to the end of her nose.

“You must get on your knees first if this is what you want.”

“What about my dress, Master?” Looking down at the blindingly white lace, she lightly brushed her fingers over the material, skimming over her breasts and down her torso. Again, Obi-Wan felt the worst compulsion to simply pin her and bury himself as deep as he could when she flicked her gaze up again and poked her lower lip out. She would have made for one _hell_ of a temptation during the early days of his Fall had she truly been his Padawan, that was for sure. “You said the floor was dirty.”

“And it is,” already he was leaning across the sofa to grab one of the decorative pillows to set between his feet for her. Gesturing with a soft smile, he offered a hand to help her to her feet. Taking it, Iza hesitated a moment before carefully sliding off of his lap, pausing when she heard him let out a low noise and a rushed breath.

“Master?” She hoped she hadn’t accidentally kneed him. She was concentrating so damn hard on not ruining the skirt that she hadn’t been paying much attention to anything else. When she looked she found him glancing at his lap with both brows high on his head and his tongue poked into his cheek. He looked both amused and… _impressed?_

“Darling, I need you to be completely honest with me right now,” had he slipped up again? She didn’t mind much if he wanted to call her his usual pet name but she would need a little more confirmation than just a few sprinklings of it here and there.

“I am always honest with you,”

He picked his head up and gave her a look. _Okay, fine_. Sometimes she wasn’t. But when it came to their games—and more serious matters—she was as honest and open as she could possibly be.

“Did you disobey me?” He asked. Bewildered, Iza blinked at him and frowned.

“Disobey you? How would I have disobeyed you?”

He tugged the hand he held and planted it directly over his cock, letting her get a feel for herself for how _damp_ the woolen trousers were. Iza felt her cheeks grow _hot_ and she looked up at him with wide eyes and shook her head.

“I didn’t. I _swear_. I swear on the game, Obi-Wan, I didn’t.”

“Come back here,” he tugged again and pulled her back onto his lap, free hand sliding up beneath her skirt to skim along the inside of her thigh. The higher he went, the higher his brow seemed to climb until he was cupping her and she had to try and keep from squirming at the touch. Looking up at her in wonder, he let out a short laugh. “Perhaps I ought to have made you wear panties. Though—I sincerely doubt they’d be of any help. It’s all down your thighs, my dear,”

“ _Master_ ,” she honestly wasn’t sure if he’d completely broken character or not. He kept flip flopping between pet names and it was throwing her off terribly.

“In a moment,” his hand retreated from her skirt and he eyed his fingers in the rosy lighting, looking absolutely awestruck. Glancing back at her, he brought them to his mouth and almost grinned at the way she clutched his other hand as her eyes widened. Deciding it best to continue tormenting her, he deliberately began licking them clean as slowly as he could, occasionally flicking his gaze to watch her. She was squeezing his hand hard enough to bruise and he could feel her harsh breaths as they fanned out across his cheeks. When he’d finished, he hummed to himself and fixed her with a damn devilish look, shaking his hand free from hers to grasp her around the waist and pull her flush against his chest. “I think your lesson can wait, Padawan. If this is the kind of mess you make when you kiss me, I can only imagine what will happen to that pillow once you’ve had me in your mouth.”

“Master Kenobi,” Iza pouted at him a little, opening her mouth to continue when she was cut off by the voice of a service droid.

“Master Jedi,” it buzzed, drawing both of their attention. “The owner of the establishment would like to extend an invitation to you and your pet to the upper level.”

“The owner?” Obi-Wan blinked and sat up a little, bracing his hand against Iza’s lower back so she would not tumble off of him. “For what reason?”

“I have only been instructed to retrieve you, Master Jedi.”

Chewing his tongue for a moment, the older man ignored the curious look he was getting from Iza before he slowly began to nod.

“We accept the invitation,” he gave the brunette a little nudge and helped her off of his lap before standing. He took a minute to readjust the front of his trousers and polish off what was left in his whiskey glass, stooping long enough to grab Iza’s cloak and drape it over an arm. He waved silently at the droid, which turned and began leading them out of the area, and clamped a possessive hand down on Iza’s hip as he walked beside her.

“Master,” she looked up at him and barely got a glance in return. “What is going on?”

“I’m not sure, my dear,” he took a moment to offer a light smile. “Worry not. I will not allow any harm to come to you.”

She knew he wouldn’t. Not after last time. The air seemed to shift as they climbed the stairs leading to the third level. It smelled softly of some kind of perfume or incense and did not carry the same sludgy humidity that the lower levels did. As they stepped through the door behind the droid, Iza swore all eyes shifted to appraise them. She caught sight of the Togruta woman from before, but did not let her gaze linger. Obi-Wan was quick to sweep her through the small crowd anyhow, still following after the damn droid as it weaved between patrons and led them straight to a figure perched up in a gold and black high-backed chair. It honestly looked more like some sort of throne than a chair, intricately carved and upholstered with much finer velvet than the sofa they’d been sitting on downstairs. Shimmersilk pillows were piled around the floor surrounding said chair, empty and waiting for pretty bodies to lounge upon them. When the droid halted, they halted.

“I have brought your guests, master,” it buzzed before it was dismissed with a wave of a shadowed hand. Both Obi-Wan and Iza stood waiting, each trying to make out the features of the face hidden beneath the shadow cast by the tall back of the throne-like chair. It did not take long for Iza to realize that the figure before them had a very _strong_ signature in the Force. Obi-Wan must’ve noticed too because he’d become a bit tense and his fingers had tightened hard against her hip.

“ _Obi_ ,” the deep, relaxed voice was so _stupidly_ familiar, but Iza couldn’t quite place it. “A _Padawan?_ _Really?_ That’s a new level of sleaze even for you, my old friend,”

Beside her, Obi-Wan seemed to be in a bit of light shock, though he let out a soft huff of a laugh and squinted like he was still trying to see beyond the shadow.

“ _Quinlan?_ ”

A low chuckle was followed by a lazy wave of a hand and a light flicked on overhead. Perched quite casually in the ridiculous chair, was Quinlan Vos. He sat with his leg draped carelessly over one arm of the chair with the other stretch out in front of him and the heel rooted to the floor to keep him balanced. His elbows were braced against the arms of the chair, fingers steepled as he studied the two with a faint smirk on his lips and a wild look in his dark eyes. Iza knew him, but not well. He had sometimes been around when she would pester Obi-Wan before his classes, but she was not surprised that he didn’t recognize her. She was also a little _irritated_ that he didn’t recognize her, given that she had been Mace Windu’s apprentice _and_ a fucking general for the GAR.

“What are you asking for her?” Quinlan tilted his head in Iza’s direction and popped a brow.

“She isn’t for sale, Quin,” Obi-Wan shook his head.

“I’m not looking to fuck her,” the Kiffar shifted his gaze to Iza, flicking it up and down her form slowly. “I want something _pretty_ to warm my lap before _my_ pet arrives,”

“You have your pick of any other woman in the place,” Obi-Wan frowned and slowly began nudging Iza behind him. “Why her?”

“Oh come on, Obi,” a wide smile spread across Quinlan’s face. “You and Anakin took turns passing _my_ apprentice back and forth between the two of you for over a year. The least you could do is loan me your adorable little pet for an hour. I’m willing to pay handsomely. _And_ I won’t even touch her.”

“I know you, Quinlan,” setting his jaw, Obi-Wan gave Iza’s fingers a gentle squeeze when she took him by the hand. “You have something up your sleeve.”

“I am not even wearing sleeves to hide anything, old friend,”

“She does not wish to part from me. I will not force her.”

A brow quirked high on Quinlan’s head and he shifted in his seat to lean out of it a little and try and further study the woman half hiding behind Obi-Wan. At first, Iza was able to meet his gaze, but then she found herself lowering it to the floor and leaning further into Obi-Wan’s back. Something didn’t feel right. Quinlan had never had such an overbearing presence before. He’d always been wild and jovial. This energy felt… _hungry_ and off-putting.

“What do _you_ want, Little One?” He asked in a gentle tone, drawing her attention again. “You’ve come to a place of debauchery and you do not want the full experience? The credits I can give for your time can buy you more pretty things like what you wear around your neck. No one at the Temple has to know.”

“ _Quinlan_.”

“I’m not speaking to you,” dark eyes quickly shifted to narrow at Obi-Wan before returning to Iza. “You have my word that I won’t ask for what you’re not willing to provide. Just give me _company_ and I’ll fill his pockets. Then you can return to letting your Master defile your innocence all you like.”

“How much?” The words left her mouth before she could stop them. Iza honestly did not want to spend a single minute away from Obi-Wan if she could help it—but the compound needed funds. She disliked the idea of asking the clones for some form of rent—it had been Catcher’s idea and she’d shot it down—and she did not have time for bounty hunting or gambling. She did not know where Obi-Wan got his funds for the expensive purchases he made. She didn’t ask. But if she could put a fair amount of credits into their savings stash for repairs and supplies, then maybe sitting on Quinlan’s lap for a short while would not be so terrible.

“Is fifty sufficient?” He tipped his head, one of his locs sliding across his forehead.

“Fifty credits?”

“Fifty _thousand_ , Little One,”

Iza choked on a vulgar swear word. She hadn’t meant to. She wondered where the hell he’d gotten all that money. He was still a member of the Order, wasn’t he? The Jedi were not paid for their services. Not monetarily. They were given a small amount of credits when on assignment for provisions but no one had a steady paycheck. Then she remembered the droid referring to him as the _owner_. It made more sense that his money would come from this place rather than his work as a Jedi.

“ _Darling_ ,” Obi-Wan pulled her back a short ways and cupped her face in his hands. “Do not let that number blind you.”

“We need the money,” she whispered back. “For Starscape.”

“I can get you as much money as you want. You do not have to do this.”

“He is your friend, is he not?” Iza busied her hands by playing with the pendant hanging from Obi-Wan’s neck. “Do you believe he will keep to his word about not laying a hand on me?”

“It is not his _hands_ I’m worried about,” letting out a heavy breath, the older man straightened and ran a hand through his hair. “The decision is yours to make, darling.”

“Will it hurt you?” Looking up at him, she tipped her head and Obi-Wan almost cussed out loud when that stupid braid went sliding across her cheek. It really did throw his brain off a little to see it. Her face was still so soft with youth that it was quite easy to believe she was still very much a Padawan. It was no shock to him that Quinlan hadn’t recognized her. After a mission that had stolen the memories of both him and Aayla, Quinlan often didn’t recognize many of the faces he once knew at the Temple. Perhaps that wasn’t a terrible thing in this situation.

“Hurt me?” He’d let himself get distracted. He didn’t understand what she meant. “In what context, darling?”

“I don’t want to upset you. I don’t want to ruin our game. Our _trip_.”

He had to think on it for a moment. It would unnerve him to see her perched high on someone’s lap that didn’t belong to him or Anakin or even Catcher. It likely would arouse his possessive side as well, especially since he’d finally collared her properly. But if Quinlan kept to his word and did not make moves to touch what did not belong to him, he _supposed_ there was no harm in it. He disagreed that she needed to do it for the money. He could easily get whatever credits she needed if she simply asked for them. She would not like where they came from—but he could get them.

“No,” he murmured finally with a shake of his head. “You will not hurt my feelings, darling.”

Nodding some, Iza stood on her toes to give his cheek a light kiss before turning back to Quinlan. He sat with his chin in his palm, looking on with mild interest and a lazy smirk on his lips. He did not straighten when she regarded him, but he did raise an eyebrow expectantly while he waited for her to speak. Turning on the soft, innocent Padawan act again, Iza played with her hands and shifted her weight from one leg to the other, looking from the floor back up to him a few times before taking a few steps closer to him.

“I take it we have a deal?” Quinlan asked, leaning back in the chair a bit as if preparing to make room for her.

“Yes sir,” Iza tried not to shudder visibly as she nodded. Humming in satisfaction, Quinlan gave a wave of his hand before patting one of his thickly muscled thighs. Silently pleading for Obi-Wan’s forgiveness, the brunette stepped up and took the hand that was offered, carefully climbing up the ornate chair before turning to seat herself in the spot he’d designated. She inhaled sharply through her nose when one of his big hands repositioned her to tuck his thigh between her legs _just slightly_ , and leaned back into his chest when prompted.

“That’s a good girl,” he nuzzled lightly at the side of her head and then turned back to Obi-Wan, who seemed torn between being quietly infuriated and sick to his stomach. “I’ll give you half now and the other half in… an hour? Maybe two? How does that sound, Obi?”

“It’s up to her,” the other man answered.

“Oh—I didn’t realize _you_ were the pet.”

“She is _young_ , Quinlan,” Obi-Wan huffed out, working his jaw. “I did not bring her here to pass her around.”

“ _Young?_ ” Quinlan repeated, poking his tongue into his cheek as he raised an eyebrow and gave a half-grin. “You really have fallen down a few rungs on the sleaze ladder, haven’t you?”

“She is _eighteen_.”

“Ah—but she’s _pure_ , correct?” The Kiffar plucked Iza’s braid from her shoulder and twisted it around his finger. “Fitting that you’d parade her around in white,”

“You have an hour.” Obi-Wan straightened his back and fixed his old friend with a hard look. “I _will_ be watching and I will not hesitate to take her back if you do not keep to your word, Quin.”

“I told you I will not touch her,” Quinlan shrugged and turned his free hand up. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, Obi.”

Clenching his jaw, Obi-Wan shifted his eyes to Iza, who’d been completely silent and seemingly unfocused during the entire conversation. She had that oddly blank look to her eyes again that she’d had on the ship. It was like she’d fully checked out and had no idea what was going on anymore. He wished she would not do that. She had promised she wouldn’t, but he supposed he could not scold her for it in this case. Giving a light nudge to her along their bond it seemed to take a moment before she blinked and turned her head to look at him, eyes glassy and heavy-lidded.

“I will be right over there at that table, darling,” he wanted her to know he was speaking to _her_ and not just the Padawan Quinlan believed her to be. “I am not leaving you. Understood?”

“Yes Master Kenobi,” she nodded.

“Be a good girl,” he hadn’t wanted to tack it on, but it felt necessary just to keep up the front. With one last quick glance at Quinlan, he breathed a heavy sigh and made his way to the booth he’d pointed out. He didn’t like this. There was something very _odd_ about Quinlan and his behavior. His friend had always had an interest in this scene—Quinlan had been the one to introduce him to _this scene_ —but he’d never been quite so… _greedy_. He’d never had an interest in Obi-Wan’s partners, though he had no problems making attempts to share his own. He had to wonder if this was another one of the strange side effects of the memory loss the Kiffar had endured a few years back. The man had not been quite the same ever since, honestly. Sitting back on the bench, he looked over to watch the two and began silently mulling over whether or not he believed Quin would keep to his word about _not touching_ Iza. If he’d wanted a simple decoration for his tacky little worship station, he could have simply let her sit upon the pillows. She did not need to be in his lap like this.

“Master Jedi,” the mechanical voice of Quin’s service droid pulled him from his thoughts and Obi-Wan turned his head to see it standing with a small case in its hand. “Your payment.”

“Yes, thank you,” reaching to take it, he felt a bit sick to his stomach accepting this much money in trade for allowing Iza to be in someone else’s company. Even if it did remain innocent as promised, he knew Anakin would throw a _fit_ if he found out. It was as vile as being the kind of slaver who rented out girls for much filthier deeds, in the boy’s eyes. Obi-Wan could not find a single fault in that logic. He was disgusted with himself. He should not have let Iza had the say. He should have put his foot down with a solid _no_ and just taken her back to the damn hotel where they could finish their game privately. But no—he had been a complete fool and allowed her to make the decision herself. Drumming his fingers against the top of the case, he looked around the room for a waitress and flagged one down to order a drink. He had the horrible feeling he was going to need _several_ of them before the hour was up.


	10. My Love Was Blind

“Can I interest you in a drink, Little One?”

Iza pulled herself out of that disassociated haze once more when Quinlan spoke to her, turning her head slowly to look at him. It took a minute for his words to sink in before she gave a light nod.

“Please,” she could at least be polite.

“Do you like sweet things or strong things?”

“Strong, sir,” it made her gut roll to have to address him like her master. She was really kicking herself now for agreeing to this. Perhaps she should have just listened when Obi-Wan said he could get her whatever credits she wanted. But she had such a weird feeling about the situation and she had not wanted to run the risk that something awful might happen if she declined entirely. Quinlan Vos had never been a _violent_ man, but she knew well that he toed the line of the Dark Side. Her former Master had declined to continue teaching him the Vaapad form simply because he pulled too much from that side of himself. As she sat with him now, he definitely radiated the same sense of darkness that she and the others did when they were not in hiding. It was subtle, but she could feel it. It made her worry that he’d be able to sense it within _her_ , too. She did not want to find out what kind of chaos might ensue if he realized that she and Obi-Wan were no longer of the Light.

“Strong it is,” he smiled easily and gestured to his service droid, muttering an order for a bottle of _something_. Iza had stopped listening again. Her eyes had found the Togruta woman in the crowd once more as a distraction. She really was very pretty. Her pale blue skin looked very soft to touch, though her honey-yellow eyes looked a bit vacant and sad. Reaching out into the Force, Iza felt around tentatively and frowned when the emotions she sensed mirrored this expression. The woman did not wear a collar. She did not even have one of the silly leather straps to signify that she _might_ have someone to keep her safe in this place. She wore delicate, gold chains draped across her shoulders like a netted shawl—but it appeared to be part of her costume. It also appeared to be some sort of distraction from the bruises that littered her neck and shoulders. The sight of them was beginning to make her blood boil. She jerked back to attention when Quinlan’s chest pressed heavily against her back, his chin coming to rest against her shoulder. “What’s got you so worked up, Little One?”

“I’m fine, sir,” she murmured, trying to lower her gaze. She couldn’t. Her eyes kept snapping back to that table. The woman was smiling as she looked between her apparent companions, but there was no joy in the expression. She did not want to be in this place. She had not come here willingly as Iza had.

“I see you’ve found Ozora,” he shifted a bit, hand coming around to offer a glass of something dark and pungent. “Are you attracted to girls, Little One?”

“What?” Iza almost dropped her drink, twisting to look back at him to find him grinning like a fiend.

“ _Ah_ ,” taking a quick sip from his glass, Quinlan leaned back in the chair and snickered quietly. “Still undecided. I could call her over, if you like. She looks miserable mingling with all of those grab-happy fucks anyway.”

“She does not want to be here,” Iza whispered, looking back across the room.

“She does not want to be with those _men_ ,” he corrected, eyeing her before he gave his leg the slightest bounce. Gasping when the movement caused her to rub against the top of his thigh, Iza tried snapping her knees together and brought her glass to her lips. Whatever he had given her was thick and tasted like something spicy. It was _very_ strong and burned all the way down, but she still swallowed a good amount of it before he laughed behind her and forced her to lower the glass. “Take it easy. You’ll be on the floor if you drink it like that.”

“I’ll be fine,” she felt like she was about to vomit fire. “I would like it very much if you took her away from those men.”

“As you wish,” Again, Quinlan whispered an order to his droid and they both watched while it shuffled off through the crowd over to the table. Ozora seemed a bit confused at first, but relief shimmered in her pretty eyes as she was let out of the booth and led over to where Iza and Quinlan sat. Standing with her hands tucked in front of her, she looked up at the Kiffar expectantly and only gave a quick glance to Iza.

“You requested my presence, Master Vos?” Her voice was as soft as the rest of her, low and velvety and an absolute _treat_ for Iza’s ears.

“Oh no, Ozzi,” Quinlan chuckled and gave Iza a little nudge. “ _This one_ has requested your presence.”

“But she wears a collar,” Ozora gestured, that confused expression returning to her face.

“She does,” the Kiffar nodded and sipped his drink before pointing to the booth where Obi-Wan sat. “Her master is over there. He has not stormed over yet, so I imagine this is not crossing the boundaries of our agreement.” Humming, he tilted his head and looked at Iza. “Or perhaps he simply likes to _watch?_ ”

“Are you all right?” Iza ignored Quinlan and his vulgar comment, leaning out of his lap a little to put her focus solely on Ozora. The Togruta looked surprised by the question. Curious eyes looked the brunette over slowly, studying her face and the little braid she wore behind her ear. _A Jedi Padawan_. Ozora had never seen one in the club before. She’d certainly never seen one look so concerned for her well-being, either.

“I’m well,” she nodded, offering a light smile. “Thank you.”

Iza shook her head, scooting further along Quinlan’s lap to get closer and really look the other woman in the eye. Briefly, she flicked her gaze to the bruising on Ozora’s skin and then back to her face, brows lifting in silent question. Her head tipped and that beaded braid caressed the line of her jaw. The Togruta had a very hard time resisting the urge to tuck it back into place for her. She seemed so genuinely worried for her. It was a strange thing to encounter in a place like this.

“Please,” Iza drew in a deep breath and nodded towards Obi-Wan. “Go to my master and tell him _your_ stars are red.”

“I’m sorry?” Ozora blinked, confused.

“Just say that the stars are red for you. He will know what it means.”

“I don’t… understand…” shifting her gaze from the Padawan to Quinlan, Ozora’s brow furrowed lightly. “Master Vos?”

“Are you unhappy here, Ozora?” He asked plainly, taking a sip of his drink. The Togruta stiffened and quickly shook her head.

“No sir,”

“Do you feel _trapped_ , Ozzi? Have I kept you against your will?” Quinlan had taken to bouncing his leg in short jerks, which caused Iza to jolt and nearly spill her drink down the front of her.

“No sir,” Ozora’s eyes fell on Iza again, watching as the girl’s face turned pink and her expression began to shift to one of discomfort. She was _not_ enjoying what Master Vos was doing.

“Haven’t I always protected you when the filth puts its hands on you?”

“Yes sir,”

“You do not need to listen to this Padawan’s orders,” finishing off his drink, Quinlan set the glass aside and then gestured to the pile of pillows beside the chair. “But if you would like to take a break from entertaining the scum, you may.”

“Thank you, sir,” Ozora gave a light nod of gratitude and moved to take up a spot on Iza’s side of the chair. It felt strange to take a break up here where Master Vos typically only invited _special_ guests, but she would not complain. She would, however, sneak tiny peeks up at the irritated looking Padawan every so often, noting that her green eyes had gone vacant and she seemed to have stopped responding to the bounce of Master Vos’ leg. _Ah_ —so she knew that trick, too. How depressing.

“You’re troublesome,” Quinlan muttered, repositioning the leg Iza sat upon and inadvertently nudging her thighs further apart. “Attempting to free one of my own girls in front of me? _Tut tut_ —if you were my pet your cute little ass would be covered in welts.”

“Are you the one who put bruises all down her neck?” Iza hadn’t meant to snap at him, but she’d been shaken out of her sweet and innocent act and couldn’t control her temper now. Behind her, Quinlan scoffed.

“You _do_ know I’m a Jedi, correct?” He tilted his head to look at her. “You think I abuse the girls who work here?”

“A Jedi does not keep slaves.”

“And what are _you_ to Obi if you are not his slave? Hm?” Wrapping Iza’s braid around his finger again, he gave it a hard tug and grinned when she batted at his hand. “The man is nearly forty. Do you truly believe he holds any feelings for you, Little One? You’re nothing but a warm, wet hole to him. He will take you and use you until he’s had his fill of you and then he’ll drop you and go straight back to his precious _Anakin_.” Leaning in, he nestled his chin on her shoulder again and murmured, “If you’re lucky, he’ll bring you along and they’ll trade off until you realize that there’s no love for you there. They only love each other. If you can call it _love_.”

“Be quiet,” Iza was going to be sick. She did not want to hear such things about the men that she loved—the men that she knew _loved her_. The quick, hard tug to her braid that followed made her shout in shock and she dropped the glass in her hand, spilling the remainder of its contents across her thighs.

“You do _not_ order me about,” he hissed, lips pressing firmly against her ear. “Is that understood?”

“ _Let go of me_.”

“Not until you say _yes sir, I understand_.”

“He will _kill_ you,” Iza turned her head as much as she could to look at him, mouth twisted in a hard frown. “All I have to do is scream and you’re _dead_.”

“You think Obi is going to kill _me_ over some little Padawan pet?” Quinlan snorted and smirked at her, shaking his head. “I have been his friend longer than you’ve been alive, Little One. I know very well which one of us he’d be more loyal to.”

“You have ten seconds to release me, Quinlan Vos,” she warned, narrowing her eyes. “Ten seconds or I scream.”

Scoffing, the Kiffar released the plait and sat back in the seat with a nasty smile on his face. Eyeing her, then the liquor trickling down Iza’s legs, he looked to Ozora—who’d done her best to keep her attention pointed elsewhere during the argument—and snapped his fingers.

“Clean it up,”

“Yes Master Vos,” with an obedient nod, Ozora moved to kneel in front of the chair, looking up at Iza. The girl was looking elsewhere in the room, her eyes dead and vacant again. She did not even glance down when the Togruta placed a hand on her knee. Sighing quietly, Ozora bowed her head and lightly began licking the streaks of liquor staining the tops of her thighs. Above her, she heard a sharp gasp and felt Iza’s muscles tense.

“What are you—”

“ _Be silent_ ,” Quinlan snapped, shoving her along his lap to put her closer to the other woman. “She is doing you a favor.”

“You do not have to—” Iza jerked when there was a hard pinch to her side and she started to twist to give Quinlan a smack for it, only to be met by an angry looking stare.

“You will let her finish her work and then you may go back to your master. I’ve grown tired of you.” He gave her a look over and snorted lightly. “I certainly hope he teaches you proper etiquette before he throws you out like trash.”

Iza found herself wondering how the hell Obi-Wan had ever been friends with this man. Her memory of Quinlan was hazy, but he had always been very kind to her. Aayla spoke so highly of him as a Master, too. She did not know who this monster was, but he certainly was not the man she had once known. Memory loss could not be to blame for this sort of behavior. There was something deeply wrong with him. She did not have long to think about it as her attention was pulled back to Ozora. The other woman had gently parted her legs to get at a few droplets of the spicy booze that had managed to dribble between them and the brunette felt the familiar heat of arousal pooling low in her pelvis as her warm tongue gingerly swept them from her skin. There was a moment when Ozora seemed to pause and glance upward at her and Iza could not keep from squirming on Quinlan’s lap at the look in the other woman’s eyes. The break did not last before Ozora resumed the soft passes of her tongue, moving perhaps a little higher than necessary up the inside of Iza’s thigh until the brunette shifted again and whimpered, parting her legs further.

“I think you’re enjoying this,” Quinlan chuckled behind her, carefully drawing her back against his chest so he could get a better view. “She can do more for you if you like, Little One. Perhaps that will relax your temper?”

“I can’t,” _Fuck_ , it was tempting though. As Iza reached a tentative hand to brush her fingers over Ozora’s montrals, she shook her head and glanced towards the booth where Obi-Wan still sat. His blue eyes were _burning_ , but it was hard to tell whether he was angry or aroused. “I’m not allowed,”

“Not allowed?” Quinlan tipped his head to look at her. “Not allowed to _what?_ ”

“Come.” Iza did not take her eyes off of Obi-Wan, even when Ozora’s mouth moved higher and she felt the hem of her skirt shift.

“ _I see_ ,” humming, he tapped his chin with a finger and shrugged. “That does not mean you cannot indulge. He still has not moved, after all.”

“I have not asked for permission,” even if they weren’t playing a game, Iza would not do _anything_ like this without asking. She’d asked for permission to bed Asajj—which she still had not had the chance to do—but she’d also asked permission from _all_ of her lovers. Just because Obi-Wan said _yes_ did not mean that Anakin or Catcher would be okay with it. She had to respect the group decision. That was just how this worked.

“So _ask_ ,”

“I…” Iza was torn. Admittedly, she was quite turned on by the idea of letting Obi-Wan watch while Ozora put her mouth on her. The woman also seemed at least _reasonably_ interested in the idea of sleeping with her, should it get that far. But not having the others here to converge and decide whether or not it was _okay_ just wasn’t sitting well with her. Looking back down at the other woman, who seemed to be waiting patiently for her next orders, she gave a slow shake of her head and lightly ran her fingertips along the pretty pattern of her montrals. “I’m sorry. I cannot.”

“Up.” Quinlan pushed a hand between her shoulders to urge her off of his lap. “You may go back to Obi. Ozora, you are dismissed.”

“Yes sir,” crawling out from where she knelt between Iza’s legs, Ozora got to her feet and bowed lightly before turning to leave. Iza, however, nearly toppled off of Quinlan in her haste to get away from him, following after the Togruta instead of going to the booth.

“Ozora,” she gently slipped her fingers around the other woman’s wrist to halt her, watching as she turned and looked down at her curiously. Iza had not realized how _tall_ she was. She was nearly as tall as Anakin, if not a little taller. “I hope I have not offended you.”

“Offended me?” Ozora gave a confused smile and shook her head. “How would you have offended me?”

“You are very, very pretty,” it sounded so stupid. Iza had no idea how to do this. “If I were not… if the circumstances were a bit different I would not have declined. I do not want you to think—”

“Darling?” Obi-Wan startled her half to death as he set his hand against her lower back and spoke, making Iza jump and cover her mouth so she would not shout. Letting out a quiet laugh, he rubbed at the base of her spine and pressed an apologetic kiss to the top of her head before turning to give a polite nod to Ozora. “Hello,”

“Good evening, sir,” she bowed her head at him and glanced back to Iza. “I assure you, Padawan, I am not offended. I am… relieved that Master Vos released you. You looked so terribly uncomfortable sitting in his lap.”

“You looked equally as uncomfortable with those men,” gesturing lightly to the table Ozora had previously been entertaining, Iza frowned. “Are you positive that you are happy here?”

“Master Vos is a generous man. He does not typically behave this way,” sighing quietly, Ozora shrugged a shoulder. “He has been in a very… foul mood as of late, however.”

“Foul?” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “May I trouble you to elaborate?”

“We will pay you for your time,” Iza took the little case of credits Obi-Wan held and brandished it, taking care to keep it out of sight of the Kiffar still perched up high on his makeshift throne. “We can go downstairs, if you prefer?”

“There is another level upstairs we can go,” pointing, Ozora smiled faintly. “You will have to pay no mind to the— _ah_ —noise, however. Upstairs is meant for couplings that wish for privacy.”

“Privacy? In this place?” Iza raised an eyebrow and got a laugh and a soft, knowing look in return.

“Not everyone is as bold as the Jedi.”

Tilting her head a little, Iza swore that Ozora winked at her before she turned to lead them both to a roped off staircase. _So_ —she hadn’t been the only one getting a free show. The Togruta had been watching from her spot on the table as well. _Interesting_.

“Are you all right?” Obi-Wan asked softly as they trailed behind Ozora, prompting Iza to look up at him. He looked a bit on the irritated side but seemed relieved to have her with him once more. She sincerely hoped he was not upset at her for not immediately rejecting the _cleanup job_ she’d been given. Nodding, she leaned into his side and gave a light nuzzle to his chest, inhaling deeply. Her senses had been so clouded by the smell of Quinlan that she honestly wanted to bathe herself in Obi-Wan’s scent for a while. Smiling when he dropped another kiss to the top of her head, she felt his fingers brush along the braid in her hair and heard him tut quietly. “You’ve lost a bead, my dear,”

“What?” Stopping, Iza brought her hand up and realized that Quinlan’s tugging had loosened the thread binding the base of the braid and it was slowly unraveling from the tail up. Looking up at Obi-Wan, she clutched the end of it like she’d done earlier in the evening and pressed her lips together tightly to keep her jaw from wobbling. “ _Master…_ ”

“Come now, my dear,” he palmed the side of her face and stroked her cheek with his thumb, casting a gentle look down at her. “I will not scold you for something out of your control.”

“He pulled it,” Ozora’s voice was firm and unamused. “When she wanted me to come to you to tell you that my stars were red, he pulled her hair.”

“No,” Iza corrected, lowering her eyes. “He pulled it because I tried to silence him when he told me all my Master would do is _use_ me and toss me away like garbage. He said… such awful things.”

A dark look crossed Obi-Wan’s face as he looked between the two women. For a moment, he contemplated turning around and going back downstairs to break every last bone in Quinlan’s body. It would serve the bastard right. He had excused the shit he’d pulled bouncing Iza on his knee the way he had, but knowing he’d been vicious with her like that boiled his blood. Instead, he gestured for Ozora to continue leading the way, sliding his arm around Iza once more. When they reached a room with an open, unlocked door, they were ushered inside and greeted by a decadent bedroom setting complete with holo-candles and malreaux rose petals scattered across the top of the bed. When the door had been locked behind them, Iza and Obi-Wan took up a seat at the edge of the bed while Ozora planted herself on a plush chair nearby. For a few moments, nobody spoke. And then Obi-Wan looked to Iza and brushed his fingers beneath her chin.

“What color are the stars tonight, darling?” He felt it very necessary to check in. Their game had gone topsy-turvy and he was not sure whether or not they ought to continue for the sake of saving face in front of her new companion. She seemed genuinely upset as well. To have told this girl to come to him with the message that the stars were _red_ for her was very serious in his eyes. It meant that Iza had seen something that he could not immediately detect. Anakin always said she was a very soft hearted girl.

“ _Cin_ ,” she murmured back, leaning into him. She had not let go of that damn braid. It seemed his earlier reassurances had not been enough.

“Is this your safe code?” Ozora asked curiously, looking between the two of them. “Is this, perhaps, why you told me to tell him my stars were red?”

“You looked so sad,” Iza said softly, heaving a sigh. “You did not seem comfortable to be at that table at all. And the bruises…” gesturing around her own neck and shoulders, the brunette shrugged. “You do not wear a collar of any kind. I assumed you were brought against your will. I did not know you… work for Quinlan.”

“As I said, Master Vos is usually very kind and generous. He does not usually behave in a manner such as this.”

“Did he do that to you?” Obi-Wan asked, nodding at the marks on her skin.

“No,” she shook her head earnestly. “A patron. Someone who got very out of hand. Master Vos knows I’m not interested in men, but the only women who come to this club are usually pets. I have to play pretend. He does not ask me to do anything I’m not comfortable doing, so I stay upstairs with the dancers and I entertain.”

“When did he start behaving strangely?”

“It’s been… almost two, maybe three weeks?” Ozora turned her hands up. “His partner has stopped showing up and he’s very worried for her. He cannot get in contact with her.”

“Partner?”

“I do not know her name. He has never spoken it to me.” The Togruta smiled faintly. “But she is very pretty. Tall and slender and very exotic looking. She shaves her head and has lovely tattoos. I’ve never seen anyone with blue eyes quite like hers, either.”

Beside Obi-Wan, Iza let out a soft whimper. Her hand fell away from her braid and into her lap and she stared at Ozora as her face began to twitch and crumple, cheeks reddening as tears sprung into her eyes. So— _this_ was why Asajj always shied away from her advances. Not because of Obi-Wan or because she was _involved_ with him, Anakin and Catcher. She already had someone and she hadn’t even had the decency to _say_ anything. She had allowed her to pine so painfully for so long without a fucking word. They’d shared many secret kisses together—most of which she’d confessed to by this point because she could not bear the guilt. But instead of flat out telling her _why_ she would not go to bed with her, Asajj had decided to lie and continue insisting she just was not interested. She heard a sob echo out into the room and realized it had come from her own mouth.

“Darling,” Obi-Wan gathered her onto his lap and held her to his chest. Bowing his head, he nuzzled at her hair and gently rubbed his hand along her back. “It’s all right, my love. Do not cry over her. She is not worth it.”

“ _She lied to me!_ ” The brunette wailed into his chest. “She always harped on me for my _feelings_ when she harbored feelings of her own for someone else!”

“Asajj has never been honest with anyone,” he sighed heavily and frowned hard. “She is not even honest with herself, darling.”

“He called me _Little One_.” Pulling back with a disgusted look on her face, Iza looked as though she might vomit. “That is what _she_ calls me.”

“Master Vos uses that name for anonymity’s sake, Padawan,” Ozora looked horribly guilty for having upset this girl. It had not been her intention at all. She’d only wanted to give them the information they were asking for. “He uses it for everyone, regardless of gender.”

“Asajj has used it since we first met,” Iza’s face started to screw again and she covered it with the back of her hand. “In _this_ club,”

“Darling, please look at me,” Obi-Wan rested his fingers beneath her chin but did not try and force her to look up. He waited until the brunette was ready and did it on her own before lightly rubbing his thumb against the curve of her jaw. “Please do not waste your tears on Ventress. She would not spare hers for you. I know it hurts, my darling. I deeply regret allowing you to pursue her. But she does not deserve your heartache.”

“I should have listened,” Iza drew in a shuddery breath and leaned into his chest, trying like hell to get her tears under control. “I should have stopped trying when my _cyar’ika_ expressed his discontent with the idea.”

“If I had known, **_I_** would have tried harder to keep you away from her,” pressing a kiss to her forehead, Obi-Wan sighed and looked over to Ozora. The other woman seemed to be doing her best to give them their privacy while also occasionally stealing small glances every so often. She looked regretful as well. “Please do not blame yourself, dear. The information is… upsetting, but very valuable.”

“I did not mean to make her cry,” Ozora frowned softly and cast a mournful look in Iza’s direction.

“It isn’t you, Ozzi,” Iza murmured, scrubbing the heel of her hand against her cheek. She wasn’t sure if it was appropriate for her to use the nickname since they were barely even acquaintances, but she wasn’t in the mood to correct herself. “This situation is complicated. I am grateful to have some reasoning for her behavior. I am just…”

“It hurts to be lied to. I understand.”

“I _despise_ being lied to,” the brunette spat with a bitter laugh, shutting her eyes lightly when Obi-Wan kissed her forehead again.

“Has Vos displayed any other worrisome signs?” Obi-Wan did not want Iza dwelling in this headspace. The last thing he needed was for her to go back to thinking about _revenge_ and the job she had yet to finish. Anakin had warned him that she was aware that Asajj was not dead. He did not need her sneaking off with the starship in the middle of their trip to go and find her. Not only would it ruin _all_ of the work he’d done to bring her back to something a bit more _normal_ and _manageable_ —but it would completely throw off the plans for the second half of this trip. He could not have that.

“Like what, Master Jedi?” Ozora tilted her head curiously, her eyes flicking between him and Iza like she couldn’t quite keep from watching the brunette. Obi-Wan was no fool. He knew a mutual attraction when he sensed it. But he also knew that Iza would not stray or ask to play with another without involving the votes of the other two in the relationship. He’d be surprised if she tried asking after this, honestly.

“Has he been violent? Perhaps not with you or the other women who work here—but with patrons. Maybe those who have not done something terrible enough to deserve it?”

Ozora took a moment, appearing to be deep in thought. While she pondered, Obi-Wan tended to Iza again, sweeping the last of her tears from her cheeks and allowing her to snuggle as close to him as possible. They were safe in here. The eyes of this woman were trustworthy enough to pause their game. They did not need to _completely_ drop it, but they could be a little more open if it meant she could seek his comfort.

“He has had some outbursts. Nothing terribly violent—but he is not one to _yell_ , even when he is upset.” The Togruta frowned lightly. “He became very aggressive with the man who left these marks on me. I have never seen a look in his eye quite like what I saw the other night, truthfully. He did not seem like himself, but he has not been _himself_ since his partner stopped coming in.”

“Thank you,” taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan let it out slowly and let his gaze drift elsewhere, mildly lost in thought. “That… is very helpful.”

“Master,” Iza looked up at Obi-Wan hesitantly. “ _Ge’tal ka’ra_.”

The older man seemed to snap to attention, eyes immediately flicking to look down at her. Studying her face for a long moment, he gave a nod and kissed her forehead.

“All right, my darling,” he understood well enough that Iza did not want to remain in a place where Asajj’s supposed _lover_ resided just a short floor away. He could feel it in the Force that she was wavering between rage and sadness and he felt it best to take her elsewhere so he might be able to relieve her of this. “We shall leave,”

Shifting off of Obi-Wan’s lap, the brunette picked up the case of credits to open it, mindlessly counting out about a thousand worth of them into her palm. Looking over at Ozora, she held them out to her.

“I cannot accept this,” the Togruta said quietly with a shake of her head.

“Please,” standing, Iza stepped closer and insisted with a tiny wave of her hand. “If not for the information, take it for the trouble I put you through tonight.”

“You were no trouble, Padawan. You were only trying to be helpful. Is that not what the Jedi are trained to do?”

 _I’m not a Jedi_.

Turning, Iza set the credits down on the table beside Ozora and kept her eyes pointed at her feet before glancing back at Obi-Wan.

“May I see your commlink, Master?”

“Er—sure, darling,” going to his pocket, Obi-Wan retrieved the device and handed it over with a curious look. Taking it, Iza turned it over in her hands for a moment and looked at Ozora.

“Have you got one? I do not have mine, so I cannot exchange contact data, but I can put your data in here and when we get back to our room—”

“It’s in my room,” Ozora looked on at her with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. “There is a staircase that leads down to the back exit that passes the sleeping quarters for some of the girls who work here. If you’d like, I can take you out that way and we can stop on the way out?”

Iza nodded, still fiddling with the disc in her hands.

“Very well,” bobbing her head in a light nod, Ozora glanced at the credits that had been set aside for her and hesitated before scooping them into her palm. She did not want to look ungrateful, but it was far too much money for ten minutes of conversation. Standing, she gestured with a sweep of her hand. “This way,”

Obi-Wan settled his hand against Iza’s lower back and nudged her forward so they could begin trailing after the Togruta. Catching sight of how tight her fingers kept squeezing the device in her hand, he leaned down and gave a kiss to the side of her head.

“Take care not to break that, darling,” he teased playfully, rubbing lightly at the base of her spine when she looked up at him. Smiling at her even though she looked terribly anxious, he gently squeezed her hip. “It’s all right. You’re allowed friends, my dear.”

She didn’t say anything, but she seemed to relax a little. Obi-Wan was no fool. Iza would not go through the trouble of exchanging contact information with this woman without a reason. But he would not stop her just on the basis that she might develop another crush. It was harmless, and he knew she would come to the group _if_ she desired a private coupling with her. After this mess with Asajj, he doubted very much that she’d want to make that jump so soon. But as he’d said—she was allowed to have _friends_. She’d not had many at the Temple that he could recall. It would be a nice change to see her reach out to someone who was not a clone for once.

“My room is just down here if you’d like to wait,” Ozora announced once they’d gotten to a dimly lit hallway. Both Dark Jedi nodded in compliance and she smiled before heading down and disappearing through a door. She was back within seconds, holding a disc similar to the one in Iza’s hand. “Here,”

Taking it gingerly, Iza joined the two at the bottom to collect the contact data from Ozora’s commlink. When she was certain she had the right information, she handed it back and smiled faintly.

“I will send a holo from mine when we’ve gotten back to our hotel so you have my information. You may contact me whenever you like.” Biting at her bottom lip, she took a breath and looked up at Ozora with a more serious expression. “If you ever need anything—”

“You will know if my stars are ever red, Padawan,” Ozora smiled gently and eyed her for a moment before leaning down and planting a kiss to her scarred cheek. “Please take care of yourself. And your Master.”

“I shall,” Iza tried not to gaze at her for so long before she took a step back and bowed at the waist. Old habit. With one last look and a tiny wave, she allowed Obi-Wan to slip his arm around her waist and lead her down the stairs towards the exit. As she slipped the commlink into his pocket for him, she sighed heavily and sank against his side, feeling him drop another kiss to the top of her head.

“Come, darling,” he murmured, pushing the button to get the door open. “We’ll get something to eat on the way back and continue our game, hm?”

Yeah. That sounded like a good idea. She could really use the distraction.

~*~*~*~

“Shall we fix your hair, my dear?” Obi-Wan asked when they’d gotten back to the room. Iza was in the middle of transferring Ozora’s information into her commlink and sending her a quick holo as promised, but she looked over at him and nodded anyway. Their dinner had consisted of various foods from the night market and they’d taken some time to relax and just _talk_ as themselves for a bit. Obi-Wan had been concerned with continuing the game while she was so shaken by the news about Asajj, but was willing to continue on the grounds that they pause for a little longer and just breathe. It’d helped a little. The grilled crawlfish skewers and beebleberry ice cream had also helped. And maybe the Sweet Milk he’d treated her to when she stopped in front of the stall. She’d definitely relaxed a little more after that.

“Let me find the beads,” Iza turned to crouch and get into her bag, noting that she could smell liquor somewhere on herself as she did so. When she’d found the box and her hair comb, she then searched her person to find the source of the scent and frowned when she saw she’d managed to stain the hem of her skirt with the booze Quinlan had given her earlier. “ _Shit_.”

“ _Padawan_.”

“I’m sorry, Master Kenobi,” rising to her full height, she grasped the clingsilk skirt in her hand and pressed her lips together tightly. “It’s just… I did not mean to get it dirty.”

“Come here,” he beckoned her over with a quick wave of his fingers and when she’d gotten close enough, he took the bit of lace from her and studied it. Tutting softly, his blue eyes shifted from the dress to her face. She looked upset and anxious. He did not think it would be a good idea to pull this into the game as a punishment. “This is an easy fix, my dear. A little bit of soda water will get this out.”

“You’re not mad?” It was an expensive dress, after all.

“It was an accident,” letting go of the material, he palmed her cheek and brushed his thumb along her lower lip. “I know good and well that you did not intend to do it. And it’s just liquor, my dear. It washes out.”

She relaxed a little, smiling. Obi-Wan returned the light smile and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, pulling her onto his lap. Taking the box of beads from her, he watched patiently while she unraveled the braid the rest of the way and combed it out before beginning the process all over again. Neither of them spoke while Iza plaited her hair, adding the beads in the same spots as before—she’d remembered how many twists to space between them—and when she’d finished and tied it off, she looked at Obi-Wan expectantly. He still said nothing, closing the box and setting it aside before running the end of a finger along the length of the braid.

“Master?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“Did you mean what you said?” She turned a little to look at him properly, fingers taking hold of the pendant around his neck once more.

“That depends on what I said, Padawan Tacor,” he watched her, an amused smile spreading across his lips. He was quite interested in seeing where she might take this game. They’d been interrupted in such a strange spot and there was so much room to backpedal and explore new routes. He would not mind it at all if she chose to _forget_ everything that had happened with Quinlan.

“Do you really enjoy spending time with me?”

 _Ah_. What a wonderful place to pick up from. Bringing a hand up, he nudged her chin lightly so she would look at him and just spent a moment or two gazing into her eyes. With a soft hum, his fingers were sliding back along her jaw and into the loosened bindings of her hair, carefully cradling the back of her head and bringing her in much closer.

“I do,” he nodded, ghosting his lips over hers. “You have no idea what sort of torment you put me through.”

“Torment, Master?” Iza tried to press closer but he wouldn’t let her. His fingers tightened lightly around the roots of her hair to keep her restrained and she very nearly whined when he began planting tiny kisses along her chin and jawline.

“I feel _every_ ounce of what you feel for me, my sweet girl,” he murmured, trailing his lips down the side of her neck. “I _hear_ the things you think you hold secret from me.” His teeth were gentle as they grazed her skin and he smiled when his mouth met the collar locked around her neck. “I have known for a _very_ long time how much you enjoy being in my presence.”

Iza could not help the shivery way she exhaled. She had not expected _this_ of all things, but she would certainly not complain.

“And this is torture for you?” It didn’t mean she wouldn’t be a _brat_ , however.

“ _Oh_ —my dear girl,” chuckling low as he dropped his hand to her thigh, Obi-Wan skimmed it slowly beneath the hem of her skirt and nearly grinned at the way she gasped in response. “Would you like me to show you what sort of torment you put me through?”

“ _Master_ ,” reaching to take hold of his wrist, Iza gave him a wide eyed look, fighting to keep her breathing steady. The older man raised an eyebrow at her but said nothing as he lightly began to drag his fingers in slow passes along the inside of her thigh. The brunette squirmed on him, biting back a whimper. They stared at one another for a moment before she finally pinched her knees together and pretended to be shy. “Will you be gentle?”

“Aren’t I always gentle with you?”

“Yes but,” the way she feigned that look of nervousness was unsettling. “This is different.”

“I will be—” he tipped his head again and pressed his mouth against his favorite spot on her neck, unable to keep from nipping the skin as he squeezed her thigh. “— _so very gentle_ with you. But we must get you out of this dress first.”

“Master Kenobi,” again, Iza turned the shyness up to very convincing levels as she crossed her free arm over her chest and dragged her teeth over her bottom lip. _Oh_ —this game was going to ruin him. He typically did not get much from the _sweet virgin_ act, but she played the part of being _inexperienced_ so damn well that it made something dark deep within him want to corrupt her. Perhaps this had been part of her plan all along. To get out those pent up feelings she’d been carrying for years, _and_ get him to behave like a wretched old pervert while she was at it. Truthfully—he was perfectly okay with this plan.

“Would you feel more comfortable if we started in our bedclothes?”

“What about the collar?” Iza’s hand flew to her neck, fingers hooking in the slim ring like she was afraid he’d try and take it off of her. Offering a smile, he kissed the curve of her jaw.

“You may leave it. It is safe to wear.” He would not be able to pull on it the way he’d done with the leather one, but he did not think things would get _that_ rough. Brushing his lips against her ear, he dropped his voice to a low whisper, “You may remove the toy, darling. We will not be using it.”

Iza didn’t mean to shiver again. It was just a damn automatic response whenever he got close to her ear like that. Turning her head a little to look at him, she kept the innocent expression on her face for a few seconds before leaning in like she was going to kiss him. A true whine left her throat when he stopped her, soft and frustrated.

“ _Master_ ,”

“Not yet,” he let his hands fall away from her and gave her a gentle nudge to encourage her to move off of his lap. “Go get changed.”

“I did not pack bedclothes, Master,” _well_ —she hadn’t.

“I will loan you something to wear.” Obi-Wan tried not to smirk as he nudged her again and waited until she was on her feet before he got up to go to his bag. He could hear her fussing around behind him—putting away the beads and comb, no doubt—and when he turned to hand over a tunic, he found her standing with an arm tucked behind her back. “What have you got there?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head and smiled, moving closer to take the offered tunic from him and plant something into his palm. It was solid and very warm and quite _damp_. _Right_ —he’d told her she could relieve herself of the toy, hadn’t he? Iza held the tunic to her chest and lightly nodded her head towards the washroom. “I will go change,”

“Take your time,” he’d need a few minutes to get out of these layers. He’d already stripped the jacket away when they’d gotten back to the room, but he had a few more to go before he could swap the suit out with his nightclothes. Watching as the brunette made her way into the next room, Obi-Wan let out a harsh rush of breath and ran his fingers through his hair. _What the hell was this turning into?_ He had a feeling he _knew_ what it was turning into and he was _fine_ with it, but **boy** —had he known this would be the game that saw the edges of _his_ control fraying, he might have given in and played it sooner. He moved as swiftly as possible as he changed clothes, feeling a bit foolish that he was about to get dressed only to get _undressed_ again, and looked up when the door to the washroom opened as he was folding his formal trousers to put them away. Iza leaned against the doorframe with the dress draped over an arm, looking at him curiously as she chewed at her thumbnail. He would never get tired of seeing her walk around in his and Anakin’s clothes. Even when things did not cover her quite enough, it was such a treat to see which way the fabric would fall across her curves. He had purposely chosen a tunic long enough to at least cover her backside, but was transparent enough to see almost everything underneath. He wondered if she’d taken a look in the mirror and noticed this.

“I do not know where to hang my dress,” her voice was so soft and quiet. He could hardly remember a time when she spoke so sweetly like this. Perhaps when she was much younger than she was now? Definitely before the war. She was playing into the part like her life depended on it and Obi-Wan could not find a single reason to tell her she couldn’t.

“You may set it over the back of that chair, my dear. I will take care of the stain tomorrow.” Gesturing, he watched her nod and go over to do just that, doing his best not to let his eyes follow her too closely. It honestly couldn’t be helped. He knew good and well that this was his Darling Girl wandering around in front of him, but she just felt so _sweet_ and _soft_ and _delicate_. It was throwing him off quite a bit, especially with that damn braid in her hair. When Iza had neatly draped the dress over the chair, she turned to look back at him, bringing her thumb to her mouth again to continue the nervous nibbling.

“Should I get in bed?”

She was going to kill him by the end of the night with all of this, he just knew it. Shaking his head, Obi-Wan slowly strode over to her and watched how her eyes followed him and her head tipped back as he got closer. He was used to such things from her but somehow, it felt different in this moment. _Everything_ felt different. Unable to help himself, he gazed at her for a long time, bringing a hand up to brush her fingers away from her mouth. _Force_ , he almost couldn’t stand how she was looking at him with that mix of nervousness and eagerness on her face.

“Master—”

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,” he corrected, palming the side of her face. “You may call me _Obi-Wan_ , my dear.”

“I can’t,” she shook her head, her eyes briefly flicking away from his face to his chest and back up again. “It would not feel right.”

 _Right_. The immersion was important, wasn’t it? Perhaps they could find some middle ground here.

“Then I will ask that you not use my surname,” he smiled gently and swept his thumb along the swell of her cheek. “If you _must_ call me ‘Master’, then call me _Master Obi-Wan_ ,”

“Okay,” that was doable. It was still a bit _odd_ for her, since _Master Obi-Wan_ was more Anakin’s thing than hers, but for the sake of the game she could use it. Leaning into his hand, Iza tipped her head and lightly brushed her lips against the inside of his wrist. Tentatively, she lifted her hands and moved to settle them on his hips. Playing this _innocent_ role was not difficult. She merely had to pull from the mindset of her younger self and behave in the manner she believed she’d have behaved if they’d had this chance years ago. It did startle her a bit that all of those feelings were still locked away even after almost a full year of having him, but it made for quite an exhilarating experience in their game. Drawing her bottom lip into her mouth, the brunette stepped a fraction closer and looked back up at him. “May I kiss you now?”

Obi-Wan did not answer with words. Instead, he bowed his head and gingerly pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that was light and delicate and experimental. It made her chest and belly clench painfully and Iza let out a soft, urgent sounding whine as she tried to press forward and deepen the kiss. He pulled back, lips quivering lightly as he fought to keep the smile off his face at her look of despair. He could feel her fingers pressing in where they rested on his hips and she seemed to be fighting hard against the urge to just pull him down and kiss him the way she wanted to. It was cruel of him to tease and he knew it—but he also knew that he would never just _rush_ into this if she truly were as pure as she was playing herself up to be. She had also asked that he be _gentle_ with her. He was simply giving her what she wanted. He knew better, however, and knew that tiny kiss would not be enough to sate her—especially not when she was giving him such a look. Lowering his hands to her waist, he began backing up towards the bed, sitting down once his legs hit the edge of it.

“Come here, my dear,” he helped hoist her up into his lap, smiling at the way she pulled the tunic down over her thighs after she’d straddled him. When he was sure she was stable enough to hold herself up, his hands slid from her waist back up to her face, cupping it and bringing her in close. “Follow my lead,”

Iza nodded and let her eyes slide shut when he planted another one of those delicate kisses to her lips again. She tried not to press for more contact, even when she felt his lips part and the very point of his tongue slide smoothly along her bottom lip. Maker help her, she actually _gasped_ into his mouth. He pulled her closer, slipped his tongue further into her mouth, teased it along the surface of hers until she could not stand it any longer and tentatively returned the slow sweep. There was a soft groan that gusted from his mouth into hers and he kissed her harder, though he was still careful not to let it get too out of hand. Iza did her best to show just as much restraint and simply follow what he was doing but it did not take long before she was shifting on his lap and letting out soft, needy noises that were smothered by more kisses. He had not moved his hands, she noticed. They still cradled the sides of her face and pulled her in closer each time he deepened a kiss, but the only touching he was doing were the occasional brushes of his thumbs against her cheeks. _She_ did not know what to do with her hands. She’d tried setting them at his waist, then on his arms and then around his wrists, but she longed to run her fingers through his hair and hold him to her.

“ _Master Obi-Wan_ ,” trying to find a moment to speak in between each kiss was difficult. Not only because there were so many, but they were just so drugging that she could not put enough sense in her head long enough to form coherent words. He would not let her interrupt. He kissed harder, swept his tongue a bit deeper into her mouth before pulling back to draw her bottom lip in between his and give it a teasing suck. Another one of those needy moans bubbled in Iza’s throat and was immediately drowned out by his next kiss. She was dizzy and warm and wonderfully lightheaded from it all. She wanted to be closer. Feeling his body heat radiate through the thin material of the tunic wasn’t enough. Iza wanted to be crushed against his chest and held while he kissed her like this. Blindly smoothing her fingers along his arms, she gently grabbed hold of them and started to pull herself closer when he broke away from her mouth and began dragging his lips down over her chin, tilting her head back with his hands.

“Stay where you are,” his voice was rough, but the tone was as gentle as it could be in the moment. The edges of his teeth grazed against her skin and he let one hand fall away so he could begin working his way down her jaw and neck once more. _Force_ , he couldn’t remember the last time they’d sat back and just made out. The kissing always seemed to go somewhat neglected unless they were sleepy or in the tub. He wondered vaguely why that was. Perhaps because they were always too distracted with trying to pull and push at one another; it was very rare that he got to indulge in something _sweet_ with her anymore.

“Master Obi-Wan,” she wriggled on his lap and caused him to exhale harshly against the spot he’d begun lightly marking on her throat. “Please?”

“Please?” He kissed his way around the column of her throat, following the line of the collar from one side of her neck to the other. “Please what, my dear?”

“I would like to be closer to you,”

“Mm,” his kisses trailed all the way up to her ear, teeth nipping at the spot behind it. “Soon,”

She really tried not to whimper, but Iza did not curb the impulse she had to paw her hands down the front of his chest. She was careful as her fingers brushed over the dark scar that arced over his skin, but added a bit of pressure as they dragged further down his abdomen.

“ _Iza_ ,” he mouthed at the curve where her jaw met her neck, sucking lightly at the skin and lowering his hands to gently take hold of hers. “Be patient, my sweet,”

“You are torturing me,” the brunette murmured, fingers tightening around his as she squirmed on him again. “Master, please do not be cruel,”

“I would never be cruel to you,” dotting kisses up to her mouth, he sealed his lips over hers tightly and growled low when Iza teased her tongue along the seam of his mouth, silently begging him to open up to her. When he did, she slipped inside and lazily skimmed her tongue over his in slow passes, occasionally luring it back into her mouth to suck gently. It didn’t take long before they were unable to keep contact with their lips, too caught up in the heavy panting and sloppy way they teased and twisted their tongues inside each other’s mouths. Eventually, Iza caught his bottom lip between her teeth and gave it a tiny tug and releasing it as she leaned back to look at him with heavy-lidded eyes.

“ _Master Obi-Wan_ ,” she could hardly stand herself. Iza could not recall the last time she’d been so worked up over _kisses_ before. Leaning up, she gently set her teeth against the end of his bearded chin the same way he liked to do to her, tugging weakly against the hold he still had on her hands. Turning her head, she kissed her way along his jaw, not caring about the way his facial hair tickled her lips and the end of her nose, and tried to get at his neck when he tilted back away from her and made her whine in protest. Pouting up at him, she frowned for half of a second before bowing her head and kissing her way across his collarbones instead, giving tiny little nips and the occasional lick until Obi-Wan leaned further back to prevent her from doing _that_ too. “ _Master!_ ”

“Hush,” he tipped forward again and crushed her mouth with bruising force, releasing her hands to wind his arms around her and drag her closer until her hips nearly touched his. Turning his head, he began kissing at her shoulders and working his way down over the thin fabric of the tunic, gently nudging her back with a hand the lower he went. He could see her nipples through the tan material, flushed and hard with arousal as they lightly tented the fabric. He did not bother lifting the shirt and instead, closed his mouth over the tight little tip with a groan, eliciting a soft gasp of shock from the brunette as he started to suck. He felt slender fingers slide into his hair and the hesitance in her grasp as she closed them around the russet colored strands. Humming quietly as he teased her with his tongue through the material, he gave light tugs with his teeth in between and almost grinned at the way she arched and shivered. He thought he heard her cuss when he switched to the other breast, and he flicked his eyes upward to give her a hard look. It was difficult to be displeased with her foul mouth when she was staring at him with glassy eyes and her mouth half open like that. Keeping his gaze level with hers, he gently clamped his teeth around her nipple and gave a tug, feeling her knees squeeze against his sides as she whined at him.

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,” her tone was still so soft and sweet that he knew she was still stuck in the game. Hell, even if she wasn’t he didn’t think he’d mind. “ _Gentle_ ,”

He chuckled. He couldn’t help it. Releasing her, he planted kisses to the rosy peak through the damp fabric and tongued it slowly.

“I’m being gentle,” as gentle as he could be, anyway. “You are very sensitive, my dear. That is not my fault.”

“You tease so much,” the fingers in his hair gently raked through his beard and down along the side of his neck. “Master, I can’t stand it,”

“Would you like to try something else?” He would not stop sucking and gently nibbling at her nipples through the tunic. Every time he pulled back the sight of them showing through the wet material drew him back in.

“Something else?” _Force_ , she sounded every bit the curious virgin she was playing the part of. It was fucking driving him mad in the worst way. “Is there more we can do, Master?”

“Oh— _my sweet girl_ ,” he enjoyed this far too much for his own good. Smoothing his hands up her back, he pressed kisses to the space between her breasts and looked up at her with a devious sort of grin. “There is _so_ much more we can do. There is one thing I would like to try in particular that I think you will enjoy.”

“Oh?”

“Mm,” he peppered kisses in a line all the way up to her neck again. “Would you like me to show you?”

Iza had a good damn idea what it was he had in mind, but she nodded anyway. His grin grew wider and he stole a deep, drugging kiss from her that made her squirm on his lap.

“All right, climb down and get on the bed, my sweet. I _promise_ you will enjoy this.”


	11. It's Better When it Feels Wrong

“Are you comfortable?” Obi-Wan asked after Iza had settled back against the pillows. She had gone and pulled the tunic down again and was holding it in place this time. It was amusing to see, given the fact that—outside of this silly little game—he had already seen what she was trying to hide away. But it added to the immersion and it served its purpose of making him feel very much like he was about to corrupt a pretty, young thing he’d been assigned to oversee the training and care of. _Pervert_. It made him feel like a fucking _pervert_ , really. It was a level of sleaze he had not felt in a long time—and not with a _woman_. He certainly did not hate it.

“Yes Master Obi-Wan,” Iza nodded at him and shifted a little in her spot, trying not to look too uncertain as she caught her lip between her teeth and studied him. When he turned in his spot on the edge of the bed and began crawling towards her, she flinched. It was entirely involuntary and it surprised even her. Obi-Wan paused and raised an eyebrow at her, a curious look crossing his features as he tipped his head. A single lock of his hair fell across his forehead and into his eyes. Iza wanted so much to reach out and brush it back for him.

“You all right, my dear?” He asked, looking genuinely concerned.

“Mhm,” she nodded again and smiled, blowing out a breath and ducking her chin to hide the nervous smile that had started spreading across her lips. “Just anxious,”

“I see,” he moved closer, sliding a hand along her ankle as he came to rest beside her. He should not have found this as endearing as he did. “We do not have to continue if you are unsure,”

“I’m not unsure,” picking her head up, Iza shook her head. Even though she seemed to understand this was all script, something in her eyes seemed worried he’d actually stop. “I just do not know what to expect, Master,”

“Well,” he dragged his fingertips along the side of her leg and over the top of one thigh, fighting a smirk when she twitched her legs and squeezed them together. She probably thought she was being discreet. _Cute_. “If I tell you everything, it will ruin the surprise. But I do not want you uncomfortable either.”

“What are your intentions now, Master Obi-Wan?”

Humming, he reached to take the hem of the tunic from her grasp, looking up at her when she tightened her hold on the fabric. A few moments of silent goading—and a little bit of light tugging—later and he began pulling it up over her hips. His lips pursed in amusement when she crossed her legs and covered herself with a hand, but he made no comment and did not give her any sort of look. He only continued to pull the tunic up until it was bunched beneath her breasts, lowering his head to press his lips just below her sternum. More soft, light kisses followed and he scattered them across every bit of exposed skin he could reach at the angle he was at. Slowly, he moved over her, bracing his hands on either side of her hips and giving the tiniest nudge to her knees to get her to part them. Iza hesitated for a moment, eventually shifting enough to let him settle between her legs.

“Can you move this?” Nudging the hand still tucked between her thighs, Obi-Wan smiled at her and bowed again to continue kissing her belly. “It’s quite distracting.”

The brunette made that damn shy face at him again, chewing at her bottom lip before she finally looked away and moved her hand.

“There’s a good girl,” he murmured, giving a tiny lick to the spot he’d just kissed. The soft gasp she gave in response nearly made him grin. Instead, he slid his hands to her waist to hold it and found a supple patch of skin to start marking up. He sucked and dragged his teeth over the spot, looking up when she whimpered and wiggled underneath him. Carefully, he sank his teeth into the soft flesh and got a quiet gasp and a wide-eyed look in return. As if he’d never bitten her hard enough to leave _scars_ here before.

“ _Master_ ,” she was clutching the gathered material of the tunic in her hands and had a small corner of it caught between her teeth as she stared at him. _Force_ —she really needed to quit that.

“Not gentle enough?” Obi-Wan teased, kissing the light indents he’d left behind. “My apologies, sweet girl,”

“It feels…” _shit_ , even her hesitation was convincing. “…it’s nice.”

“Nice?” He really couldn’t help being a bastard sometimes. It was just in his nature.

“ _Good_. It feels good, Master,” her face was _scarlet_. He wondered if she knew. Iza had said much filthier things with a straight damn face and never so much as blushed over it. For a moment, he contemplated doing a check-in. He did not want her falling into some strange headspace he could not pull her out of because of a simple game.

“Am I embarrassing you, my sweet?”

“No,” she shook her head, green eyes following as he trailed kisses to her navel. Her hips jumped lightly when he traced the point of his tongue around the edge and dipped it inside, her hands pulling at the fabric between her fingers.

“Are you sure?” He raised a brow and began moving his kisses lower, pressing them in a soft line until she sat up a little and tried to squeeze her legs closed against his sides.

“ _Master Obi-Wan!_ ”

“What is it, my dear?” It was _very_ difficult to act surprised by her reaction to his intentions. He wanted so badly to grin and it took everything in his soul to keep his features locked in a concerned expression. “Have I done something wrong?”

“I…” she’d let go of the tunic and was hovering her hands over his shoulders as if to restrain him. That flush in her cheeks had darkened even more and she looked _startled_. “What are you doing?”

“My dear girl,” he slid his hands to her hips again, stroking his thumbs over the soft swells of flesh before bowing his head to kiss her chest through the tunic. “I said there was something I’d like to try with you.”

“Are you not already trying something else?”

“You mean the biting?” He finally let himself have the grin he’d been holding back, making sure to keep it as soft as possible. “Iza that is _not_ what I meant at all.”

“But Master,” she was pulling her legs up as much as she could with him settled between them, still trying to close them and play the _shy_ card. “Is that not something I should be doing for you?”

“It can be,” his mouth found one of her nipples and teased it through the fabric again. The soft little moan she gave made him growl and take a few moments just to suck and lick at the hard tip until he remembered what he was _supposed_ to be doing and forced himself to pull away. “Iza my dear, are you _sure_ you want to do this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be sure?”

“I do not want you to make a decision based solely on how being in that club made you feel, sweet girl,” he could not help himself. He _had_ to get his mouth on her other breast. “I understand how such debauchery can cause these feelings within you. I will not be upset if—”

“ _You_ cause these feelings in me, Master Obi-Wan,” Iza said as firmly as she could in that moment. When his blue eyes flicked up to look at her, she fixed him with a determined look and finally reached up to move that silly bit of hair off of his forehead. “You said yourself you have felt what being in your presence does to me. If you truly believe that your kinky club has anything to do with this decision, then I must inform you that you are _wrong_ , my darling Master. I’m just…”

“Nervous?” He finished, smiling and gently kneaded her hips with his thumbs. “You need not be, my dear. I promise I will take _very_ good care of you.”

“I do not know what I’m doing.”

“I’m aware,” Obi-Wan could not stop the grin and the pointed look meant for his Darling and not the sweet little Padawan she was playing. He swore he thought he saw her lips twitch like she was about to smile, but she ducked her head too quickly for him to tell. Humming, he lowered his head and began kissing his way down her torso again, stopping to nip here and there at the surface of her belly. “I will teach you, my sweet girl. Do you trust me?”

“More than anyone,”

He picked his head up again at the tone of Iza’s voice. She’d lost the light sweetness and sounded more like herself, and that startled him a bit. For a moment he just eyed her, one brow quirked ever so slightly in question. But the brunette said nothing more and simply stared back with her lip drawn between her teeth and an anxious look in her eye. Perhaps she had not meant to say it in such a way? Or—perhaps she _had_. Alternatively, he reasoned she could be attempting to make amends for her cruel words to him from weeks prior. He wasn’t sure and he didn’t think it was appropriate to ask. Instead, he gave a tiny nod of acceptance and returned to scattering gentle kisses over her skin, hands sliding to the sides of her thighs to rub and try and coax her to part them. It was much easier than he’d expected. Turning his head, he began brushing his mouth over the top of her thigh, occasionally grazing his teeth against a spot before twisting to do the same to the other side. A heavy gust of breath blew across his cheeks when he moved along to the inside and started working his way up, and as he was mouthing at the crook where her thigh met her hip Iza let out a soft, nervous giggle and wriggled away from the touch.

“It… _tickles_ ,” she murmured when he looked up at her questioningly. When he knit his brows, she gestured lightly. “Your beard, Master,”

“Apologies my dear,” once again, he could not stop the grin that spread across his lips. “It’s a bit out of my control.”

“Are you sure you want… to do this, Master Obi-Wan?” Iza twisted the bunched fabric of the tunic between her fingers as she watched him, expression caught between _unsure_ and _impatient_. He would not fault her if she happened to slip character now.

“Mm,” nodding, he lowered his head and kissed the ticklish spot again, moving a fraction higher before slowly working his way across her pelvis. “I am very sure,”

Iza made a soft noise and shifted on the bed like she was still a bit wary of the whole thing, but Obi-Wan noticed that she’d parted her knees a bit more for him in the process. He had a feeling she was getting a bit antsy, despite her sweet and innocent act. He couldn’t blame her, honestly. The closer he got to the notch between her thighs, the more she started to squirm and shift her legs around and he had to pause at least once or twice to bite down on the back of his tongue so he wouldn’t snicker. _This girl_. He would not make her wait much longer. With a quick glance upward and another thoughtful hum, he leaned in and slowly swept his tongue between the folds of her pussy.

“ _Master!_ ” She jolted upright again, eyes wide and cheeks still that pretty shade of pink. Obi-Wan quirked a brow up at her, but said nothing as he pressed closer and hummed quietly against her flesh. Iza’s legs parted further on either side of his head and she twisted her hips a little, gasping when he dipped his tongue inside of her before dragging it up to her clit once more. He worked slowly, deliberately, taking care to pay close attention to the spots he knew drove her absolutely crazy. Somewhere along the line, she’d settled back down on the pillows again and began letting out quiet, breathy moans as her fingertips brushed through the hair at the top of his head. When he closed his mouth over her and began to gently suck, her hips jumped and she cried out, picking her head up to stare at him. “ _Master Obi-Wan_ ,”

He barely spared her a glance, sucking harder until the brunette swore loudly and picked her legs up, attempting to squeeze them shut. This was not easy to do with his head stuck between them. Grunting, he pulled back from her and frowned.

“Is something the matter?”

“You’re… you’re gonna make me…” Iza looked anxious. _Ah_ —he’d forgotten to tell her she was allowed her release. His mistake. An amused hum made its way out of his throat before Obi-Wan gently pried her legs apart and lowered his head again, teasing the point of his tongue around her clit until he felt her legs start to shake.

“I would like it very much if you came for me, my sweet,” he murmured, pressing close again to return to the deeper, slow strokes of his tongue. Iza let out a soft cry in response, her breathing quickening as her fingers slipped into his hair again. Still, he sensed her holding back. _Unacceptable_. With a low growl, he closed his mouth over her clit and gave a demanding suck, grunting again when Iza’s hips came up from the bed with a shout.

“ _I can’t_ — _Obi-Wan!_ ” Iza tossed her head back and grasped the bedspread in her fingers. She felt him plant a palm against her belly and firmly press her back down against the bed before his tongue was making those smooth passes again, hitting all of the good spots and making it damn hard for her to do anything but shiver and make unintelligible noises. She could tell he was getting frustrated with her for continuing to hold back, but she did not want to ruin their other game— _his game_. Even if he’d given express permission, it still felt strangely unfair to have to start the process all over again. But just when she was sure she’d be able to hold off for at least a _few_ more minutes, Iza felt a warm, _familiar_ sensation like the press of fingers deep inside of her. She knew good and well it was _not_ his fingers. The cheating bastard was using the Force. Picking her head up again, she stared down at him, absolutely scandalized, “ _Master!_ ”

He said nothing. He simply shot her a look with those pretty blue eyes of his and dragged the flat of his tongue in hard swirls over her clit. The pressure surged deeper, pinpointed all of the most sensitive spots and teased them one after the other until Iza trembled so hard the lock at the back of her collar began jingling like a bell. She couldn’t stave it off any longer. The heat and the pressure were becoming too much to bear. When he closed his mouth over her again and gave the perfect little flick of his tongue, Iza arched and dug her shoulders into the pillows, bringing her hands up to cover her face and smother the cry that left her. She could not describe the sensation running through her other than it being as though someone had taken her climax and tripled its potency and she twisted and shivered and rolled her hips hard against his mouth. There were stars in her eyes. She couldn’t breathe. The room was greying in and out and her whole fucking body just _burned_ with pleasure from the release. He was still going. He’d never stopped.

“ _Mas—_ ” she cut off when she felt him slide his fingers inside of her for real, curl them, and stimulate his _favorite_ spot until she started sobbing nonsense into her palms and kicked her feet in the air. She couldn’t take it. The greedy pulls of his lips in combination with the wicked teasing his fingers were doing quickly unraveled her a second time and Iza hollered out to him. He growled. She could feel it. Shit, she could feel how fucking _wet_ his beard was against her skin and he _just kept going_. There was a word she was supposed to use. She couldn’t remember it. She couldn’t remember anything. Everything was so foggy and it was so hard to breathe without wanting to yell at the top of her lungs. The third orgasm was the breaking point. Iza felt every muscle in her body tense up and _tingle_ before she whimpered and the grey turned to inky blackness. The soft grasp of fingers against her face pulled her back from _wherever_ it was she’d gone and she felt beyond confused as she looked around the room and tried to make sense of her surroundings.

“What color are the stars tonight, darling?”

Lazy green eyes shifted forward to find Obi-Wan in front of her, concern set deep in his features. His chin was damp and his hair was wet at the roots with sweat. Iza couldn’t process the question right away. She needed a minute to breathe and try to think. Her whole body tingled viciously with the aftermath of orgasm, and she knew they were in the middle of a game if he was using the check-in line. But everything else was so hazy…

“ _Darling?_ ”

“ _Genet_ ,” no, she really needed a second. She’d blacked out before but not quite so hard. Looking up again when the older man shifted around and gathered her in his arms, Iza nuzzled into his chest and let him pull down the tunic she wore.

“Perhaps I went a little overboard,” she couldn’t tell if he was remorseful or not. “I only wanted to treat you after you’d been so good for me. I did not mean to make you pass out, darling,”

“Obi-Wan,” she wanted him close. It was overwhelming how much she _needed_ him to just hold her and let her bask in his warmth. Somewhere in the back of her head, she knew she ought to still be playing her part. She would go back to it. She just needed to get enough sense back into her brain before she did.

“What is it, darling?” Running his fingers beneath her chin, Obi-Wan tipped her head back so she’d look at him. “What do you need?”

“You,” she probably didn’t need to pout but she was going to do it anyway. She heard him chuckle softly and felt him move around on the bed with her until he’d settled comfortably on the pillows with her nestled in his arms. When she was able to, Iza shifted around to fit herself against him as snugly as possible. She’d started to nuzzle her cheek against his chin and paused, pulling back to look at him with a frown.

“What? What’s that face for?”

“Your face is wet.”

“That—” he couldn’t stop the laugh that nearly burst out of him. “That is not _my_ fault, darling.”

“Is it not?”

“ _Not entirely_.”

Pursing her lips at him, Iza took the sleeve of her tunic and gently rubbed it across his chin, shaking her head. When she was satisfied that his beard was dry enough again, she went back to the affectionate gesture that had been interrupted. Still chuckling, Obi-Wan kissed the side of her head.

“You’re adorable, my darling,” he said softly, burying his nose in her hair. “I love you so.”

“I love _you_ , my Obi-Wan,” she murmured back, tracing her fingers along his shoulder. She did not know how long they laid there cuddled together, occasionally trading soft kisses and little brushes of their fingers. But eventually, the fog lifted from her brain enough for her to sink back into herself and gain enough sense to continue their game. Tipping her head back to look at him, she was greeted with a kiss to her forehead and a gentle smile.

“Are you sure?” It always startled her when he knew what she was going to say before she said it.

“Mm,” Iza nodded and, with some reluctance, started to pull away. There would be plenty of time for more of the sweet snuggling later. Obi-Wan was always very good about letting her have as much of it as she wanted when she got stuck in that weird post-orgasm haze. Taking a breath, she turned to look at him and let herself sink into that mindset of her eighteen year old self. Almost immediately, she could feel her cheeks starting to heat over the memory of what had transpired. The way he looked at her helped. Like he was still hungry for her in so many ways, but was willing to go at whatever pace she wanted to set. It was thrilling and nerve wracking at the same time. Such a strange thing to feel knowing that they’d done some very _brutal_ things with one another that not even Anakin knew about. Her eyes fell on his mouth and her face flushed a deeper shade of pink, making her turn to look elsewhere in the room while she brought her hand up to try and hide her smile. _Sheesh_. She even felt like a virgin again. Fucking _bizarre_.

“What’s all this?” Obi-Wan gave a light tug to her sleeve and propped himself up on an elbow. “Surely you haven’t gone shy on me now, sweet girl,”

Iza bit her fingers and glanced at him from the corner of her eye. Obi-Wan made a heavy, guttural sound and she fought not to squeeze her thighs together. That sound _always_ got to her. Most of those animal-like noises of his did. Dropping her hand, she started fidgeting with the hem of the tunic and bit down on her lip instead.

“I’ve never…” how did she want to phrase this? “It’s not like that when I do it myself.”

Another one of those low growls sounded in his chest and Iza was sure if she looked at him, he’d pounce. So, she just kept playing with the hem of the tunic and pressed her lips together to stop a flustered smile from spreading across her lips.

“Master Obi-Wan?”

“Yes?” He had to clear his throat.

“Will you teach me how to do it to you?”

“ _Fuck, Iza_ ,” Obi-Wan turned and planted his face into one of the pillows, letting out a heavy breath. Turning to look at him in surprise, the brunette watched as his back rose and fell with more heavy, hard breaths while he tried to center himself. Was she laying on the innocence too thick? He’d seemed to enjoy it before. She’d been surprised by how much he’d enjoyed it, honestly. Obi-Wan seemed more turned on by experience and knowledge than _purity_.

“A Jedi doesn’t swear, Master,” she chided playfully, watching him pick his head up and give her a look. He laughed shortly and muttered something she couldn’t quite hear before sitting up again.

“In this case, it’s warranted,” he shook his head, pursing his lips. Raking long fingers through his hair, Obi-Wan licked his lips and slowly turned a hand up. “Do you think you’re ready for that, my dear?”

She twisted in her spot to look at him better, tilting her head so her braid fell across her cheek. She’d noticed that seemed to be another thing that made him weak. _Something_ always changed in his eyes when it happened. They’d focus on it, soften slightly, and then that wicked look would start creeping in again. If she didn’t know any better, Iza would think that Obi-Wan secretly harbored the same quiet kink for this whole scenario.

“I want to give you the same pleasures you give me, Master Obi-Wan,” she said softly, shrugging a shoulder. Slowly, she started crawling back over to him, bowing her head to kiss him sweetly. “I promise I will listen, Master. Don’t I always listen to you?”

“Mostly,” he smiled and nodded, fingers coming up to brush along the side of her neck. “You have your moments, but you’re usually a good girl for me.”

“I would like to be the _best_ girl,” carefully, Iza slid a leg over him to straddle his stomach, still giving him that soft look. “Please, Master Obi-Wan? It seems so unfair to leave you wanting when you’ve been so generous.”

He blew out a breath and looked her over. It was terrifying how convincing he was with that contemplative expression of his. The hand on her neck skimmed to her jaw, thumb sweeping across her bottom lip. Reaching up, Iza gently took hold of his wrist and dipped her head enough to take his thumb into her mouth, sucking in soft pulls. She could actually feel his stomach tense and shudder against her thighs as another low, rough noise rumbled in his chest. Pulling back, she lightly kissed the pad of his thumb and pouted.

“ _Please?_ ”

“ _Force_ ,” he’d barely been able to keep from swearing again. “ _All right_. Stars above, Iza. You’d better not try this again to goad me into anything else when we get back to Coruscant.”

Iza only smiled. She knew good and well she didn’t have to do _shit_ to goad him into anything. Even when he was in full Bastard mode, Obi-Wan had his weaknesses with her. The right look or noise would melt him down into nothing. He was nowhere near as easy to manipulate as Anakin was, but she still knew his buttons. The biggest difference was that she had never been able to sink herself into his mind the way she’d done with Anakin. But Anakin seemed to _enjoy_ letting her fiddle around in his head and lure him into doing whatever she wanted. Obi-Wan was too damn dominant for that. Still—he had his moments.

“You will have to move, my sweet,” he looked as though he did not want her to. “And decide whether you would be more comfortable poised on the bed or on your knees on the floor.”

“Which would make it easier for you?”

“Er—well…” he blinked and made a face like he’d never thought about it before. “I would much rather have you comfortable. _That_ will make it easier. So… the bed.”

 _Thank the stars_. Iza was not fond of being on her knees for long periods of time and given that this was meant to be a _lesson_ , she’d likely be kneeling for quite a while. Offering another sweet smile, she leaned in for a kiss and pulled back when he started to brush his lips over hers, giggling at the look she received. When Obi-Wan tried to lean up and kiss her again, she leaned all the way back out of his reach, poking her tongue out between her teeth playfully. He did not look amused.

“Aww, Master,” cupping the sides of his face she lowered her head and treated him to a deep, slow kiss that almost had her fully leaning into his chest and pressing him back against the pillows. It didn’t help when he rested his hands on her hips and started nudging her back, encouraging her to shift her weight onto his pelvis. She did as he wanted, gasping into his mouth at the feel of him pressing against her. “ _Master Obi-Wan_ ,”

“Do you see how you torment me?” He whispered, kissing her harder. Iza answered with a whine and a light nod, rocking her hips slowly until he groaned and gripped at her hip. When she turned to start kissing her way along his jaw and down his neck, Obi-Wan let out a harsh breath at the next hard roll of her hips and dropped his head back on his shoulders. “Be careful, my dear. You do not want to make this quicker than it ought to be.”

Iza damn near snorted. She knew better. She’d gotten him off twice before they’d even left for the club. He’d be _fine._ Still, she pulled away from his neck and gave him that curious look of innocence and tipped her head.

“Does it feel good, Master?” She tipped her hips forward, stifling a moan in favor of waiting for his answer. “Am I doing it right?”

“Iza— _please_ ,” his hand slid up her back and curled around the base of her neck, eyes blazing. “Darling— _please_. You’re killing me.”

“You like it,” her fingers stroked lightly over his abdomen, tracing the lines of defined muscle there. “I feel it along the bond.”

“Yes,” his smile was lazy and a bit stupid. Iza wondered if she’d ever seen that expression before. “But if you wish for us to make this last—you _must_ dial it back a bit.”

“Your stamina is better than that,” she pursed her lips at him. “You have gone all night before.”

“Even so,” his eyes lowered to watch her draw invisible shapes across his skin. “I believe you wanted a _lesson_. You will not get it if you continue.”

“Answer me, then,” that soft look returned to her eyes and she gave another nudge of her hips. “Do you like it, Master Obi-Wan?”

“ _Filthy little girl_ ,” he growled out, giving her neck a light squeeze. Iza’s eyes widened and she drew her bottom lip into her mouth. It wasn’t the first time he’d ever said it to her, but _man_ —something about the way he said it just hit a little different.

“Only for you, Master Obi-Wan,”

“I’m going to flip you over and fuck you into this bed, darling,” he warned, holding up a finger. “This is the last time I will warn you. _Mind that mouth_.”

She had a choice to make. Iza had a _very_ cheeky retort at the ready, but it would definitely signal the end of the game if she used it. But the promise in that threat was so very tempting, too. Pouting, she rolled off of him and gave a tiny huff.

“You did not answer me, Master,” she mumbled, pulling her sleeves over her hands before looking away and fidgeting with them. She did not expect him to suddenly crawl over her and she knew she had to look as startled as she felt to find him hovering above her. Staring up at him Iza damn near melted into the bed when he gently grasped her chin to level their gazes.

“My sweet girl,” his voice was _rough_. It made a shiver run all the way down her spine and her thighs squeeze together. “Would you like to see how much I enjoyed it?”

And suddenly her face was going red again. So much for having the upper hand. Giving a little nod, Iza leaned up into the kiss he pressed to her lips and allowed him to gather her up from the bed. When they were both upright, he took her by the hand and used the other to pull his sleeping trousers out of the way to free his cock, guiding her into wrapping her fingers around it. Iza couldn’t help raising an eyebrow at how fucking hard he was. For once, she didn’t have to feign her wonder as she looked up at him, getting a near-feral look in return. Leaning in, Obi-Wan rested his forehead against hers and slowly began moving her hand up and down along the length, hissing quietly through his teeth.

“Do you see?” He murmured, warm breath fanning across her cheeks. “Do you feel what you do to me, _my Padawan?_ ”

Iza didn’t mean to squeeze the way she did, but he’d surprised her with that. He’d been stuck on calling her _my dear_ and _sweet girl_ since they’d gotten their clothes off and hearing him call her that made her feel delightfully _filthy_. Her breathing was coming in soft, erratic waves now as she gazed up at him and tightened her hold as she continued moving her hand along his cock. Finally, she gave a little nod and tipped her head up to press a light kiss to his lips.

“Master Obi-Wan,” _Force_ , she was almost too turned on for this. Keeping the innocent act up was not as easy anymore. “ _Teach me?_ ”

“You must let go first,” he smiled at her teasingly, planting another kiss to her lips. Reluctantly, the brunette released him and tried not to whine when he pulled away to settle back on the bed. He did away with his trousers on his own. There was no point in leaving them on. Beckoning her between his knees with a hand, Obi-Wan waited until she’d gotten comfortable before he gestured. “It’s not difficult at all, my sweet. Simply take it in your hand like before and put it in your mouth like you did with my fingers.”

“The whole thing?”

Obi-Wan sputtered a little like he hadn’t expected that. _Good_. He deserved a moment to be shocked for once.

“Er—I don’t think that’d be a good idea at first, no.”

“It’s quite big,” Iza pretended to study it, going so far as to tilt her head as though she’d never seen it in her life. After a moment or so, she gave a shrug and leaned in, giving the head a tiny lick. Obi-Wan’s legs twitched on either side of her and she looked up at him. His face was about as neutral as it could be in the moment, but his eyes were on _fire_ with need. She knew that look. In any other situation, he’d already be snagging her by the hair and stuffing her mouth full of him. Part of her wished he would. Giving another lick, she eased him into her mouth and looked up at him expectantly. She would not wait for the command to suck, giving experimental pulls of her lips that hollowed her cheeks lightly before she moved a little closer and took more of him down.

“That’s it,” he murmured, reaching to tangle his fingers in her hair and gently guide her into a slow bobbing motion. “Like that.”

The brunette shut her eyes once she’d fallen into the right rhythm, sucking a fraction harder as she gave the base of his cock a good squeeze while the fingers of her free hand absently began lightly stroking his balls. She’d forgotten she wasn’t supposed to know a damn thing about this. She also doubted that he cared much. Judging by the heavy moan she pulled from him, she was correct. It was easy to lose herself in the act and it did not take long before she was taking even more of him into her mouth, whining when he gave a little tug to her hair to bring her back to the present. Blinking up at him in confusion, she got a light smirk and a raised eyebrow in return. _Right_. Inexperienced. Pulling back all the way, Iza rubbed at her jaw as though it actually ached and avoided his gaze.

“Sore?” He asked, trying not to look amused.

“A little,” she’d let her hand take over, stroking in smooth passes and giving strong squeezes to all of his favorite spots. He could not stop her from doing _that_. “Master Obi-Wan? May I try something?”

“That… depends, my dear,” he looked wary. “What have you got in mind?”

“I saw a holo-video once,” she would not look at him as she said it, focusing on tracing her fingertip in circles around the head of his cock until she saw it twitch. “I do not know if I will be able to do it properly, but I would like to try.”

“If you tell me who showed you such a video, I will consider it.”

Great. Now she had to think of someone. Shrugging, she brushed the sensitive spot below the head and tried not to smile when he growled and his belly tightened.

“Skywalker.” _Sorry Anakin_.

“ _Of course_ ,” Obi-Wan sounded like he was trying not to laugh. “I will be speaking to that boy.”

“ _Master_ ,” Iza rested her cheek against his thigh and pouted. The heavy sigh he let out almost made her grin. This man was such a fucking _sucker_ for this sweet act. She was going to have to remember this.

“You may try whatever filth you saw in this holo-video.”

Eyes brightening, Iza gave a quick kiss to the head of his cock and sat up, pulling her borrowed tunic off over her head. Obi-Wan watched on curiously as she tried to find a way to position herself before she became frustrated and sat back.

“I think you will have to sit at the edge of the bed, Master,” she grumbled, extremely displeased by the idea of having to kneel.

“My dear, what are you attempting to do?”

“If I tell you, it will not be as fun,”

“Very well,” he waved her out from between his legs, grabbing a pillow to set on the floor for her before he perched himself at the edge of the bed as instructed. Watching while Iza knelt between his knees, Obi-Wan tilted his head for a moment and then lifted his brows in surprise when she moved in close enough to settle his cock between her breasts. The look of absolute _delight_ on her face was arousing as hell. He did not know why she wanted to try such a thing—or if Anakin had indeed shown her a dirty holo-video depicting such an act or not—but if it was going to make her _this_ happy, then she was free to try it.

“I’m not sure they’re big enough,” Iza made a face as she cupped her tits in her hands and pressed them together against the sides of his cock. Honestly— _he did not care_. The brunette still seemed determined to try anyway as she slowly began moving up and down on his cock, keeping her eyes on his face. The older man had never felt anything like this. Her tits were so soft and warm compared to her mouth or pussy; it was a different sensation altogether and by the third or fourth stroke, he was addicted. She made a satisfied noise over the fact that he appeared to enjoy it and peered down curiously to watch the way her tits seemed to smother his cock when she pulled up and how the tip of him peeked out of her cleavage when she sank back down. It was an interesting sight, to say the least, and she found herself flicking the tip of her tongue against the purple head when it appeared.

“ _Darling…_ ” Obi-Wan couldn’t keep it from rolling off his tongue, brushing stray strands of hair from her face. She looked so wickedly innocent as she played the teasing game of peek-a-boo with his cock, the curious look on her face adding to the authenticity of the game. He really needed to get himself in check before he ended up losing it. “My dear… are you trying to kill me?”

“No Master Obi-Wan,” she answered, looking up at him again. Iza didn’t miss a beat as she continued moving on him. “Do you dislike it?”

“Quite the opposite, my girl,” he breathed out a laugh and moved to brush her hands away, giving her tits a squeeze when he palmed them and pushed them together for her. “But I do not know how much longer I can last if we keep playing your little game.”

A contemplative look crossed Iza’s face as she slowed for a moment, chewing the corner of her bottom lip. She knew damn well he could get it up again within the hour if he really wanted to. They could play this game all damn night as long as they didn’t exhaust themselves. She did not want to be too terribly greedy, but she also knew he would want to return to edging her in the morning and if she was expected to be deprived again Iza wanted to get as much out of him as possible. _However_ …

“Will you make me _yours_ , Master Obi-Wan?” She’d stopped completely, looking up at him with her hands resting on his knees. Obi-Wan tilted his head as he looked at her in wonder for a few moments before he let go of her breasts and brought his hands up to cup her face instead, bowing to kiss her deeply. Iza whined into his mouth, allowing him to pull her up from the floor onto the bed once more. They both became a mess of quiet snickering and sloppy kisses as they tried to climb into the center of the bed, pawing and pulling at one another until they’d gotten situated with Iza nestled comfortably in the pile of pillows. Gazing up at Obi-Wan when he’d braced his hands on either side of her head, the brunette reached up and combed her fingers into his hair and found herself unable to control the warm smile that spread across her lips. She got one in return and hummed into the kiss he gave her, parting her knees for him to settle in between them comfortably.

“Are you sure?” _Authenticity_. Obi-Wan was at least trying to keep to the game. He was struggling just as much as she was at this point.

“Just be gentle,” she gave a light scratch of her nails through his beard, almost grinning when he growled happily and leaned into the touch. One of these days, she swore he was going to purr when she did that. Once he’d regained his senses, he nodded at her and bowed to kiss her again, shifting between her thighs to line himself up. He didn’t have to ease his way in as slowly as he did, but the brunette was quietly thankful for it anyway. She was so damn sensitive from before that she gasped and let out a quiet moan as he sank into her. She swore softly when he drew out and carefully slid back in, setting an easy pace that kept his thrusts reasonably shallow in comparison to how they usually did this. “ _Obi-Wan_ ,”

“Is this what you want, darling?” Apparently they were done with the game-specific pet names. “Is it gentle enough for you?”

Iza nodded and dragged her fingers through his hair again, pulling him down for a kiss that tangled their tongues and had them breathing heavily into each other’s mouths. The slow and easy pace was _dizzying_ and set every last nerve ending she had on fire. She could not recall off the top of her head if they’d ever truly _made love_ like this. Everything was always so rough and full of kink—not that she would _ever_ complain. Iza loved every moment of anything Obi-Wan wanted to give her. But this— _this_ felt so different. Soon enough, he was pressing his hips in closer until they met hers, making her moan louder and push up from the bed to meet the slow rolls of his pelvis. The kisses were harder to keep up with now, but he’d trailed his mouth to her neck and begun darkening the mark he’d left previously. Her nails scratched lightly up his back and over his shoulders, legs lifting to wind around his waist and squeeze when he hit a particularly deep spot and made her tremble all over. She would not last. She had a feeling _he_ would not last, either. Turning her head to brush her lips against his ear, she tried to keep from panting so heavily into it and gave the lobe a tiny nip with her teeth.

“ _Master Obi-Wan_ ,” okay—so she had a little bit of that Innocent Padawan act left in her. “I’m going to come.”

“ _Iza_ ,” he tried to smother the heavy sound he made against the side of her neck to no avail, a weak chuckle following it. He gave a harder press of his hips and picked his head up to look at her before resting his forehead against hers. “Good. Let me have you, my girl,”

“Say it,” Iza pleaded as her breathing picked up and she began tightening around his cock. “ _Please say it_.”

Obi-Wan bit down on his tongue for a moment and exhaled harshly through his nose, picking up the pace enough to bring himself closer to the edge before he cradled her head in his hands and pressed hard kisses to her lips.

“ _Mine_ ,” he nipped her bottom lip and tugged it gently. “ _My girl. My sweet, darling little Padawan_.”

“ _Master Obi-Wan_ ,” Iza wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck and pulled him in closer as her breath hitched and her legs tightened even more around him. Turning her head, she buried her face against his shoulder and shouted out her release, rolling her hips up from the bed as she trembled and clung to him. She heard him grunt and growl out her name in her ear before his hips jerked into hers in a hard stutter, twisting to bury himself as deep as he could get as he came in fiery hot jets. As he started to relax against her, Obi-Wan blindly kissed every little part of her face, neck and shoulders that he could reach, smiling when she made attempts to do the same. For a long time, they simply stayed that way until the older man murmured something about getting them a drink. He kissed her as he pulled out slowly, trying not to smirk at the way she whined at him, and carefully rolled off of the bed to get to his feet and fish out the bottle of whiskey from his bag. He was about halfway through getting the second drink poured when he felt a familiar tight ache in the center of his chest and turned to look back at the bed. Iza had curled up with her back facing him and appeared to have pulled one of the pillows into her arms. His guess was that it was meant to smother any noise she might make, but he couldn’t quite understand why she might be crying.

“Darling?” Abandoning the drinks, he strode back over and crawled onto the bed behind her, drawing her back against his chest. “Iza, my love, what’s the matter?”

“I’m fine,” she shook her head and waved a hand weakly in what he supposed was a dismissive manner. “Honest,”

“My girl,” he turned her over so she would face him, unsurprised when she tried to hide her face behind her hands. “Darling, talk to me,”

“I do not know what to say,” she swallowed thickly and shrugged, still refusing to move her hands. “Everything feels… _I feel_ …”

“Oh darling,” he gathered her against him and tucked his chin atop her head, rubbing a hand up and down her back. She was overwhelmed. He could feel it now that he was actively searching for what was troubling her. Perhaps he should have been a bit more mindful and not gotten up so quickly before checking in with her. His mistake. Threading his fingers into her hair, he bowed his head to kiss the top of hers and murmured softly, “What do you need, my love?”

“I don’t know,” Iza could not understand the feeling that had settled in her chest. It was so heavy and cold; something like _dread_ , but not quite so severe. Her head was full of that fog again, too. That part wasn’t so terrible. She was used to getting stuck feeling stupid for a little while after sex with Obi-Wan. But she had not felt so vulnerable before. “ _I don’t know_.”

“Shhh, it’s all right,” he gently brushed her hands out of the way and tipped her head up to pepper kisses over her face. “I’m here, darling. I will not leave you.” Reassurance was always a big thing with her. Even when it didn’t seem to be the problem, he always _tried_ to touch on it when he remembered to. “Do you think you can explain _how_ you feel? Perhaps then I can help?”

“ _Scared_.” That was the best way to put it. It was a strong word, but it was the only one she could think of in that moment. “I don’t know why.”

Obi-Wan took a few minutes to go over some things in his head, picking through and trying to come up with a reason the brunette might be feeling such a way. Finally, he looked back at her and raised an eyebrow.

“Are you worried that this is the end of our game, darling?” He had not planned for it to be this short. In fact, he was going to let it play out for as long as she wanted—or at least until they had to leave Pohrell. While he _had_ initially planned to continue his strict little game for the duration of the _entire_ trip, Obi-Wan found that he simply could not just take this from her. It did not seem fair, especially when she felt more like _herself_ than she had in months.

“I…” Iza made a face like she hadn’t considered it, but there was a moment where Obi-Wan could practically see the lightbulb flickering on inside of her head. She began to nod, an almost embarrassed look crossing her features. “Yes.”

“It is not,” he promised, pressing more soft kisses to her cheeks. “It is not over yet, my darling girl.”

“But…” the younger woman let her fingers brush against his chin, idly fussing with the gingery hairs there. “What about—”

“We shall return to the other game at a more convenient time,” smiling, he dipped his head and kissed her fingertips. “I think I’d like to see what sort of _trouble_ my little Padawan can get herself into.”

“It seems unfair,”

“You and your obsession with fairness, darling,” gently nudging his forehead into hers, Obi-Wan chuckled quietly. “Everything will even out as it always does.”

Falling silent, Iza simply played with his beard for a few minutes and accepted the little kisses he gave every so often. As the heavy feeling began to wane, she looked at him again and reached higher to push the hair off of his forehead.

“Can we take the drinks into the bath?”

“Of course we can, darling,” stealing a slow, soft kiss, he smiled at her when they broke away. “You stay here and I’ll get the tub ready.”

~*~*~*~

Iza could not sleep. Obi-Wan had passed out just a little before the sun had come up, but she had hardly been able to get a few minutes of dozing in before she’d snapped awake at some random sound and was now completely alert. Her head was still swimming from the whiskey they’d shared in the bath, but it wasn’t enough to put her down. She had a feeling she knew what was keeping her awake. Glancing to make sure he would _stay_ asleep, the brunette carefully shifted away and scooted off of the bed, going to her bag to get her comm disc. She did not know what time it was on Odran’oel, or if Anakin would even answer. He could very well be in the middle of tinkering to pass the time, knowing him. But she wanted to talk to him and hear his voice and see his face. Perhaps she could give Catcher a quick buzz as well. Shutting herself in the bathroom, Iza sat down on the edge of the tub and tapped one of the buttons on the edge of the disc, waiting to see if she’d get a response.

“Hey sweetness,” Anakin sounded and looked tired as he smiled at her in the holo projected from the device. “What are you doing up so late?”

“It’s morning here,” she said quietly, noticing that he appeared to be lying down. It made something in her chest clench to know that he’d be in that big bed by himself for the next two and a half weeks. “Did I wake you, _cyar’ika?_ ”

“No,” he shook his head and smiled. “I just got in bed, actually. _You_ look exhausted.”

“I can’t sleep,” Iza confessed, lowering her gaze. “Obi-Wan’s already passed out.”

“Mm,” Anakin took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “What’s wrong, sweetness?”

Iza chewed her tongue and stared at the tops of her knees. She could feel him looking at her like he was standing in front of her. After a few moments, she looked back up and tried not to let her face screw too much.

“I just miss you, that’s all.” She wanted so badly to tell him the things she’d found out about Asajj, but the last thing she needed was for him to start getting angry. He’d likely get loud and wake Obi-Wan and then things would just get messy. “It’s always so hard when you are not here with us.”

“Trust me when I say I know the feeling,” his smile was tight and a little bitter. “But I know that isn’t what’s bothering you. C’mon. Out with it.”

“You must promise not to get upset on my behalf,”

“I promise I will not get upset on your behalf.”

“Asajj lied to me,” she needed a cigarette. She would have to sneak one when she was through with this call. “She has had a lover this entire time and did not tell me. She just… let me feel the things I felt and… refused me without reason.”

The look on Anakin’s face was hard to read but Iza knew him well enough that she could tell he was displeased by what she was telling him. The way he pressed his lips together in a thin line and flared his nostrils was telling enough.

“What would you like me to do about it, sweetness?” He asked, fixing her with a hard stare.

“Track her down for me?” _Yes_ she would use that same sweet, innocent look she’d been giving Obi-Wan all night. It worked _wonders_ on Anakin most of the time. “Do not make a move without me, _cyar’ika_. I just want you to find her.”

“I can do that for you.” He nodded, looking as though he intended to get out of bed.

“Not now,” she shook her head and held a restraining hand up. “My love, you must get sleep. You do not need to start until tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure,” Iza smiled reassuringly. “Do not exhaust yourself, _cyar’ika_. You have plenty of time.”

“How did you find this out?” Something like relief had crossed his features before he was lying down again. Iza was glad he’d listened. She would’ve felt terrible if he’d gone and jumped straight into trying to find the other woman without even attempting to get an ounce of sleep.

“A friend.” Sighing, she looked to the floor and fidgeted. “Is Catcher awake?”

“Should be. He was down in the hangar with the rest of your Stars about an hour ago.” Eyeing her, he flashed a teasing smile. “You only called because you wanted something.”

“I did not!” She didn’t mean to sound so hurt. Her tone wiped the joking expression clean off of Anakin’s face.

“Sweetness I wasn’t being serious. Hey,” he sat up again and frowned at her. “Is everything all right? Obi-Wan isn’t behaving too viciously, is he?”

“No. He has been very sweet to me.” Absently, Iza wound the end of her stupid little braid around her finger and began to tug. She _really_ needed that cigarette.

“Iza,” Anakin sounded a little put off. “Is that… do you… sweetness, are you wearing a _Padawan’s_ braid?”

She flicked it over her shoulder and tried to pretend she wasn’t just playing with it, giving him another innocent look.

“ _Iza_ ,”

“It’s a _game_ , okay?” Hell’s bells, she could feel her cheeks going pink. “And before you start thinking he’s turning into some creepy old pervert, this was _my_ fantasy. Not his.”

Anakin stared at her for a few seconds before letting out a snort and shaking his head, turning to bury his face in the pillow. He was cackling, she realized, and it took a while before he could get himself under control and actually look at her again.

“Sweetness,” he sighed at her and cast a stupidly affectionate look at her. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Don’t make fun of me, Anakin,” Iza pouted, frowning.

“I’m not. I promise. Trust me,” he set his head down on the pillow and shot her a look. “I know _all_ about your teenage crush on Obi-Wan. I witnessed a lot of it, remember? If this is how you wanna live it out—go for it.”

“You know _we_ can play games too, _cyar’ika_ ,” propping her chin in her hand, she pursed her lips at him. “You only need to ask.”

“Oh— _I know_. Maybe I’ll think of something for when you get back.”

“Make it something good.”

“I’ll be sure to do that.” Smiling sleepily, the younger man looked like he was attempting to fight off a yawn. He did not succeed.

“Go to bed, _cyar’ika_ ,” Iza commanded softly. “I will try to get to you at an earlier hour tomorrow.”

“You’d better go to bed too before Obi-Wan wakes up and fusses.”

“I will,” sighing, the brunette eyed him and smiled. “I love you.”

“Mm,” he was already turning onto his stomach and pulling his pillow beneath his head, smiling like a damn idiot as he gazed at her through heavy lidded eyes. “Love you too, sweetness. Good night.”

“Night.” Waiting until the holo blinked out before she sighed, Iza ran her fingers through her hair and got up to poke her head out into the room. Obi-Wan was still passed out. _Good_. Sneaking over to his bag, she fished around for the packet of cigarettes she’d seen him stash away and took one of them along with the pack of matches that was stuffed in the pocket. Retreating back into the bathroom, she reclaimed her spot on the edge of the tub and got the thing lit before attempting to comm Catcher.

“ _Little Bit_ ,” he sounded buzzed. “It’s about time.”

“Why are you so grouchy?” Iza eyed him, frowning a little when she couldn’t quite pinpoint what seemed _off_ about his appearance. “ _Did you shave?_ ”

“It will grow back,” waving a hand at her, he heaved a sigh and sat down somewhere. Probably his bed. “I’m not grouchy, sweetheart. I just thought I’d hear from you sooner than this.”

“I’ve been in hyperspace, love,” she shrugged lightly and took a quick drag of the cigarette while he wasn’t looking. “I wasn’t able to talk to anyone.”

“You called Skywalker before you called me.”

“ _Catcher_.”

“What?” The clone turned a hand up and gave her a look. “I could hear you all the way in here, sweetheart.”

Iza stared at him for a moment, trying to make sense of his attitude. Catcher was usually pretty mellow about all of this. She didn’t understand why he was suddenly behaving like she’d done something wrong.

“Are you angry at me for something, Catch?” She asked, tilting her head.

“No.” He answered plainly.

“Why are you being so…” she didn’t want to say _mean_. He hadn’t been an outright asshole just yet. “… _cold?_ ”

“Do you still love me, sweetheart?”

Iza dropped her cigarette and yelped when the cherry burned the top of her thigh. Scrambling to pick it up and brush off the shower of embers that had exploded everywhere, she looked back up at the holo image of the clone and _stared_.

“Did you seriously just ask me that?” She couldn’t breathe.

“I think it’s a valid question.”

“ _Catcher_ ,” she felt her face twisting as her throat began tightening up, tears already streaking down her cheeks. “Of course I fucking love you! What… why would you even…”

“You have a funny way of showing it, Little Bit. Running off with Kenobi constantly. Freaking out if he doesn’t give you the right amount of attention. You only seem to want me when you can’t get what you need from either of them.”

“Catcher _what_ has gotten into you?”

“Nothing. I was just doing a bit of talking with the boys and it led to some thinking, that’s all.”

“Catcher, we are bonded in the Force. We are _pieces_ of one another. I know you don’t believe in the whole _Jedi Devilry_ thing, but… it’s real. It’s real and you’ve felt it.” Iza was going to be sick all over. She’d already thrown the cigarette into the toilet, but the nausea had not gone away. “I love you so much.”

“I feel like I’d have an easier time believing that if you were home more or if _we_ spent time together more, like we used to.”

“What are you trying to say to me, Catch?” If he said what she feared he was going to say, she was going to scream and wake this entire hotel.

“I think maybe I should move in with the Stars for a bit.”

The whole room tipped sideways and Iza fell into the tub. She could hear Catcher’s muffled voice somewhere in the room, yelling for her, but she didn’t budge. She just lay with her face painfully pressed against the floor of the tub and hyperventilated until there were spots in her eyes. He was yelling louder now, trying to get her attention. She only pulled her legs into the tub and curled up, letting out a sob that echoed off the walls. Somewhere amidst the chaos, she heard the door to the bathroom slide open and heard the commotion of Catcher suddenly yelling at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan yelled right back at him— _cussed_ at him—and shut the comm disc off before stooping to pick Iza up from the bottom of the tub.

“It’s all right, darling,” he murmured, grunting when she planted her face in his shoulder and started to weep. “I’ve got you.”

“He’s… Catcher… _he thinks I don’t love him_.”

“He’s a damn fool, darling,” huffing, the older man carefully settled her back on the bed and crawled in beside her, allowing her to cling to him as soon as he’d gotten the blankets pulled up. Winding his arms around her, he held her as close as he comfortably could and did his best to kiss the tears off of her face. “It will be okay, my love. We will take care of this. _I promise_.”

“I don’t understand,” she sniffled, shaking her head. “I’ve done everything I can to make it fair. _I don’t understand, Obi-Wan!_ ”

“Hush, darling,” Obi-Wan cradled the back of her head and rested his forehead to hers. “Close your eyes and breathe with me.”

“I do not _want_ to!” Iza sobbed, turning her head away. “My heart hurts, Obi-Wan! I do not want to bond!”

“All right, all right,” combing his fingers into her hair, he sighed heavily and frowned. “What do you want, darling?”

“Make me sleep,” she stared up at him with new tears flooding her eyes, silently pleading. “Just do it. Make it stop, Obi-Wan.”

 _Force_ , that was the last thing he wanted to do. But if it would help make her feel better for the time being…

“Very well,” he kissed the spot between her eyes and sighed again. “I love you, darling.”

“Love you.”

With a quick flick of his fingers, the brunette was dead asleep. This left Obi-Wan to wonder just what the _hell_ had gotten into the clone. He could easily get out of the bed and comm him and find out, but he did not want to leave Iza. Besides, the man had sounded almost drunk. Perhaps he was not speaking from the heart? _Stars above_ , he certainly hoped not. Maker knew what might happen if Anakin caught wind of this little _spat_ between them. He did not want to have to cut this trip short and he did not want to have to put off the _other half_ of it, either. But—if it came down to it—he would do what he needed to in order to make sure this got fixed. He could not have Iza’s progress deteriorating. He needed her mind well enough for what they had to do. He certainly hoped that Catcher would have a good fucking explanation for all of this when they finally comm’d him back in the morning, that was for sure.


	12. Just A Moment of Weakness

Iza did not want to move. She’d been stirred back to consciousness by the brush of warm fingers against her face and Obi-Wan’s soothing voice in her ear, but she did not want to get out of this bed. As soon as she remembered where she was, everything from the night before had come flooding back and she was once again stuck with the heavy ache of confusion in her chest. Instead of looking at him and letting him know she was awake, Iza nestled closer and nuzzled her face into Obi-Wan’s chest with a sleepy groan. He was not convinced.

“Darling,” his tone was soft, soothing. “I know you’re not sleeping.”

She grunted at him and buried her face deeper against his chest. She’d smother herself before she looked at him willingly.

“Do you not want to continue our game?”

Iza whined. That wasn’t fair. He couldn’t pull a card like that— _could he?_ That was more along the lines of something _she_ might do. Maybe he was picking up some of her bad tricks.

“I know, darling,” his lips brushed the side of her head and he smoothed his hand down her back, sighing quietly. “But we must find out what is going on with your Catcher.”

She already felt her throat tightening at the thought. Memories of how cold Catcher’s demeanor had been the night before flickered through her head, pausing on his declaration of possibly moving in with the rest of the Stars temporarily. She could not think of a single reason why he might want to do such a thing. They had parted on good terms. He had been so very affectionate and warm with her before she’d left. She didn’t understand what had gone wrong while she’d been away. Finally lifting her head away from Obi-Wan’s chest, she still refused to look at him even when he palmed her cheek and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Hello, my darling,” he smiled affectionately, his touch tender as he swept his thumb against her cheek. When she looked at him, his eyes were soft and he looked more like the Obi-Wan she’d grown up with than he had in a long time. It made her chest hurt even more, but for different reasons. Letting out another soft whine, Iza started to bury her head again when he stopped her. “No, darling. We must get out of bed.”

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,” shutting her eyes, she tried to turn over and roll away from him. If he would not let her nestle into his chest, then she would just tunnel herself into the blankets. But he was not allowing this either. Sitting up, he gathered her against his chest and propped his chin against her shoulder, sighing quietly.

“I understand, Iza,” he whispered, giving her a gentle squeeze. “But lying around in the bed will not fix anything.”

“I do not want to be awake,” tilting her head to rest it against his, the brunette stared straight ahead at the wall and frowned hard. “I want to go back to sleep, Obi-Wan,”

“You may not.”

“This is a _trip_. It is a vacation. I can do as I please.”

“We have something to work out, darling,” kissing the side of her head, the older man sighed again. “You may return to bed when we are through if that is what you desire.”

“I don’t want to hear him question my love for him again. I don’t want to hear him say he wants to leave the apartment.” She was so close to crying already it wasn’t even funny. If she didn’t think he’d truly get angry at her for it, Iza would have already broken out of Obi-Wan’s grasp and moved away from him. “I don’t want to hear him say he is done with me.”

“Darling, you do not even know if this is the case,” smoothing the hair back from her face, Obi-Wan frowned hard and turned her head a little. “ _Stars above_ , Iza. How hard did you hit your head last night?”

“I don’t know,” she didn’t care, either. Keeping her eyes averted, she allowed him to fuss as much as he wanted, grunting when he swept his knuckles over a tender spot on her face.

“You’re bruised,” he sounded concerned. “Does it hurt?”

“Not really,” it wasn’t a total lie. She’d had the whole right side of her face bashed in before. A bit of bruising from falling into the tub was nothing.

“Darling,” he hooked a finger against her chin and gently forced her head up. When she refused to actually look at him, Obi-Wan drew in a deep breath and cleared his throat. “ _Look at me_ ,”

Green eyes snapped up obediently, soft and sad and dull. He would not put a compulsion on her to keep her gaze level with his. He didn’t think he had to. Instead, he stroked his finger along her jaw and continued frowning.

“I know you’re upset, my love, but we must take care of this. I do not want you wallowing for the remainder of our trip.”

“And what will you do if he says he does not love me anymore?” Iza’s voice shook as she spoke, her breathing becoming a little choppy. “Will you force me to stay here? Because I do not think I can stand to be on a trip with a broken heart, Obi-Wan,”

That was fair. He hadn’t thought about that. He was so sure that the clone was just drunk and lonely and perhaps had been influenced by his brothers in some way that he hadn’t given _any_ thought to the idea that Catcher might truly want out of his relationship with Iza. He was also banking on the man changing his mind after having seen the way she’d reacted to his words the night before. He did not want to _force_ Iza to do anything, but they did have a job to do. It would not be his first choice to keep her from going home, but it might be his _only_ choice for a short while. He needed her. The assignment was important and she _had_ to be part of it.

“He will not say such a thing,” carefully brushing the hair off of her face, Obi-Wan put every ounce of hope he had out into the Force as though it might help. “Your Catcher adores you, darling. He has just been by your side so long that he does not know how to deal with you being gone.”

“You sound so sure,” that sad look was going to end him. Obi-Wan truly despised seeing her so upset. “But you didn’t see him last night. You didn’t _hear_ him and the way he spoke to me.”

“I have spent enough time watching the way the two of you interact to know when he is truly angry and when he is just frustrated, darling,” he shot her a pointed look and smiled faintly. “I do not believe he was speaking from the heart.”

Iza stared at him for a long time like she was silently searching for something. He was not entirely sure what that _something_ might be, but he would not interrupt. When a frustrated look flickered across her face, the brunette turned away again and began pulling out of his grasp.

“You will take me home if he still insists on his nonsense,” the demand in her voice was light and tentative, but he knew her well enough to know that she’d find some way to get back to Odran’oel without him if she had to. “I cannot lose him, Obi-Wan. _I will not lose him_.”

“Darling—”

“ _I have nearly given my life for him! Many times!_ ” Iza didn’t mean to shout. She never meant to shout at Obi-Wan when she could help it. “He used to boast so highly of how I valued his life before my own— _and I still do_. I do not know where he got this sithspit idea in his head that I no longer love him as much as I always have, but I will _not_ — _I will not_ lose him over it. He is just as precious to me as you and Anakin. Surely you understand this by now?”

“Of course I understand, darling,” the older man could not help but be slightly taken aback. She had not shown this kind of aggression in a few weeks. He wondered if he could even consider it _aggression_ at all. It sounded more like _passion_. “I have never tried to pull you away from him. Despite his possessive behavior, neither has Anakin. You made it very clear that Catcher was to be of top priority when this began. I have not gone back on my word on that since granting it to you at all.”

“He has become jealous of you,” Iza didn’t look at him, blinking rapidly to clear the tears from her lashes. “Not Anakin— _you_. He does not understand… It is not that I no longer need him the way I once did— _I still do_. I just—”

“Your dependency on me is beginning to cause issue, my darling,”

“My _dependency_ is necessary.”

“You are not a child, Iza. I have said before I do not mind our arrangement, but you _must_ save some of the control for yourself.”

“I have control,” the brunette began moving off the bed, brushing off his attempts to take hold of her and keep her from leaving. Once her feet touched the floor, she began stalking over to where her comm disc lay, grunting at the sudden tugging sensation behind her navel that halted her.

“Center yourself,” Obi-Wan said gently. “You do not need to contact him with such fire in you, darling.”

“My _fire_ is what keeps him in line.” Summoning the disc into her palm, Iza hesitated for a moment. She needed to steel herself against the idea that Catcher had been serious about what he’d said. The longer she thought about it, the more the sadness began to boil down into anger. If that anger turned into rage, she was not sure what she might say or do. She did not want to make any mistakes she might regret. Taking a deep breath, she blew it out slowly and tapped the little control on the side.

“Little Bit?” Catcher’s face looked _tired_. She wondered if he’d been up all night thinking about his cruel words. For a minute, she just studied him and watched the way he studied her, noting how his pretty eyes seemed to widen when he noticed the apparent bruise on the side of her face. “ _Maker_ , sweetheart… are you all right?”

“I don’t want to talk about my face, Catch,” she walked away from Obi-Wan and into the next room for a little privacy.

“Sweetheart I…” he looked incredibly guilty. “I don’t know what the fuck came over me last night. I’d been talking with Pop and one of Skywalker’s men. The one that doesn’t sit still. We were drinking and someone said something that didn’t sit well with me and I guess I let it go to my head.”

“That’s not an excuse, Catcher,” Iza ground her teeth and frowned, trying not to pout. “How would you like it if I said something like that to _you?_ Made you suddenly feel like you’d done something wrong?”

“That’s just it, Little Bit,” he breathed a hard sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. It was beginning to get out of hand with how long it was. “I _do_ feel like I’ve done something wrong. Pop asked why you don’t come to the hangar on your off days anymore. Why he doesn’t see you hanging all over me like you used to. I tried to explain how tired you’ve been, but that we’ve still been relatively—you know— _good_. And then Hardcase mentioned how often he sees you with Kenobi and that you’re always mooning over him. I know… _I know_ I shouldn’t have let it bother me. But it did.”

“Did you ever stop to think that they might be fucking _jealous_ , Catcher?” Huffing out a breath, the brunette narrowed her eyes. “Your brothers… I love them _dearly_ , but they go inland and they just roll around with whatever wants to open its legs for them, and then they have the audacity to chide _you_ for being in a relationship? You have as much freedom as you want to hang out and do things with them. I have never tried to restrict you from that. But it sounds to me like they want you to be just as _free_ as they are to do those things.”

“But I don’t want to do those things,” Catcher made a face and shrugged. “I am happy, Little Bit. _I am_.”

“Why would you tell me you want to move in with the Stars, then?”

“I was fucking _drunk_ , sweetheart. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I had everything that Popper said fresh in my mind when you called and I was just irritated.”

“I had to make Obi-Wan knock me out. With the Force, before you go blaming him for this.” Waving a hand at the bruise on her face, Iza scoffed. “My love, I do not like being away from you as much as you hate me being away. But the lessons are necessary if you do not want to lose me completely.”

“I don’t recognize you when you come back sometimes, Little Bit. It feels like I’ve already lost you.”

“But I am still _me_ , Catch.”

“You were not _you_ the last time you came back from that place, Little Bit.” Catcher said pointedly, giving a look to match. “I understand that you were subjected to… _a lot_. But the woman that walked through the doors was not you. I know you. I know what you feel like. There was… there was nothing to feel, Iza.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You always have this strange…” he looked like he was trying to find the right word, waving his hand and scrunching his face in frustration. “The best way I can describe it is like how it feels when we bond. That warmth. Even after you shifted to this… _darkness_ , you still carried it. But I did not feel it that day, Iza. I didn’t feel it again until we got back from Nal Hutta.”

Leaning against a wall, Iza stared down at the floor for a long time and tried to recall _anything_ from the last Serenno trip. There were vague flashes. Whispers of garbled commands. Memories of that excruciating pain that always came with the infliction of unwanted imagery that Tyranus forced upon her. _Asajj_. She remembered Asajj. Everything else was a blur.

“Little Bit?”

“ _Shuk’la_.” She murmured, giving a quick shake of her head.

“Eh? What do you mean _broken?_ ”

“No… not broken. Scattered. I don’t… remember anything as a whole.” Looking back at him, Iza shrugged. “Just parts.”

“Sweetheart, did someone mess with your memory?” Catcher’s expression became full of deep concern.

“I don’t think so?” She also wouldn’t _know_ if someone had.

“Where is Kenobi?”

“In the other room, why?”

“Can he hear us?”

“I—probably? Catcher,” Iza frowned at him. “Obi-Wan would not mess with my head like that. Neither of them would. You know that.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest that.” Something in his tone made that statement hard to believe. “I just thought maybe he’d have some insight.”

“Look—I don’t remember a lot of things sometimes, okay? The shit Tyranus does to me scrambles my brains. It’s like getting hit with the magna guard batons, but right here,” Iza tapped the side of her head and watched a look of horror cross Catcher’s face. Right. She’d forgotten that she didn’t really discuss the things that went on when she was on Serenno. “Don’t look at me like that, okay? _I’m fine_.”

“You’re missing memories, Little Bit,” his features hardened and he looked damn ready to start a real argument. “Don’t tell me _you’re fine_.”

“I did not call to discuss this. I called because I want to make sure _we_ are okay.” She wasn’t sure what she was going to do with this anger rising in her chest. She would have to find some non-destructive way to take it out. “Are we okay, Catch?”

“Yeah, Little Bit,” he rubbed the back of his neck and turned his hand up. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry for saying what I said. I didn’t mean it. I love you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I fucking hope not.” Running a hand through her hair, Iza heaved out a sigh and eyed him. “Will you do something for me, Catch?”

“Name it, sweetheart,”

“Stop getting drunk with the Stars until I get home. I don’t… unless Anakin is in the hangar with you, I don’t trust that they’re not going to keep feeding you this nonsense.” She felt conflicted even as she said it. “I hate telling you what to do. You know this. I don’t like making you feel like you’re not allowed to do something. But this… this is really messed up, Catch. They’ve always been on _our_ side—Pop especially.”

“I don’t get it either, Little Bit,” Catcher frowned lightly, looking very much like he wanted to reach through the holo and touch her face. “But I can do that. I was already thinking about it anyway. I can go in for our Sabacc games but I won’t drink.”

“That’s fair. I’m not asking you to stop seeing your brothers. Just—”

“Don’t get drunk with them. It’s fine, Little Bit. I’m on board.”

“You can always get drunk with Anakin,” Iza offered with a quiet laugh. “Or maybe not. I would like to come home to the two of you _alive_.”

“Skywalker’s not so bad when he’s had a few.” He flashed an amused smirk and snorted. “He gets real moony over you and Kenobi. It’s almost _cute_.”

“You do the same thing, pal,” Anakin’s voice was distant and he wasn’t close enough for the holo sensor to pick him up. “ _Hi sweetness_.”

“Hi _cyar’ika_.” Shaking her head, she fixed Catcher with a soft smile. “I have to go, Catch. I’ll call a little later, okay?”

“Sounds good, Little Bit,”

“Love you.” She blew him a little kiss and watched him smile like a fucking idiot.

“Love you more, sweetheart,”

“ _Love you sweetness,_ ” Anakin called from somewhere in the background.

Iza couldn’t help the way she snorted.

“I love you too, _cyar’ika_. Bye.” When the holo blinked out, Iza let out another heavy sigh and took a minute to gather her thoughts. She didn’t know if she wanted to question Obi-Wan about the things Catcher had brought up or not. She also didn’t know if he’d give her answers, either. He was usually pretty good about not hiding shit from her, but sometimes— _sometimes_ she got the feeling that he did it for the sake of preserving her sanity. In all fairness, it wasn’t an unwelcomed gesture. Tyranus dug things out of her head that were absolutely horrifying and often shoved things in that were even worse. She could not blame him if he wanted to rush in and clean house to keep her from falling apart completely. But it was very jarring to try and recall something and find _nothing_ but emptiness in its place without knowing why. Lightly tapping the comm disc against her chin in thought, Iza sighed again and pushed away from the wall, heading back into the other room.

“Did you get everything sorted, darling?” Obi-Wan had gotten out of bed and was in the middle of dressing himself.

“You know I did,” she probably shouldn’t have used that tone. He looked a little offended as he paused in the fastening of his trousers and shot her a look.

“If you’re implying that I was eavesdropping on your conversation, I assure you that I was _not_. Just because we’re sharing the room doesn’t mean I’ll invade your privacy, Iza.”

“I’m sorry,” going over to her bag to shove the comm disc inside of a pocket, Iza crawled back onto the bed and pulled one of the pillows to her chest. “That was rude of me.”

“Yes it was.”

Hugging the pillow, she eyed him a moment and then turned over onto her side so her back faced him. Suddenly, she didn’t feel like doing anything. She’d almost felt better about the idea of getting up and going out and continuing their game. Now she just wanted to stay here and maybe go back to sleep. The mattress dipped behind her and she let out a soft whine at the kiss he pressed to the back of her neck.

“Darling,” nuzzling his face against her shoulder, Obi-Wan slipped an arm around her and pulled her back against his chest. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t remember things,” she wouldn’t bother trying to stem the urge to snuggle into him. He was warm and despite how she felt in that moment, his offered comfort was appreciated. “Catcher mentioned that I didn’t feel like _me_ the last time we came back from Serenno. I… barely even remember anything from the trip. Just pieces.”

“Iza my darling,” letting out a heavy sigh, the older man turned her a little so she’d look at him, gently pinching her chin. “It is best that you do not _try_ to remember those things.”

“Will you be honest with me if I ask you something?”

“I have nothing to do with your memory loss, my sweet,” he promised, bowing to kiss her forehead. “The only thing I did that may have jumbled something was rid you of a foul projection Tyranus implanted in your head. But I did not touch anything else. You have my word.”

“How, then?” Iza shrugged and stared at him. “How is it that I’m missing _chunks?_ ”

“Darling, Tyranus is a very powerful man. A powerful _Sith_. The things he has done to your mind are meant to shatter you and bring you further into the dark. If you are missing memories, it is because _he_ does not want you remembering his compulsions.”

“You are stronger than him,” the brunette whispered, frowning lightly. “I feel it.”

“Not quite, darling,” smiling softly, Obi-Wan brushed his knuckles down the side of her face and sighed. “But I am nearly there. Our final assignment will seal the end of my training.”

“Will you be Sith?” Her brows knit together lightly. “You promised we wouldn’t—”

“I will _not_ be Sith. Being knowledgeable in something and being a _practitioner_ are two different things, my dear.”

“We are still going through with our plan, right?”

“ _Yes_ , darling,” he palmed her cheek, holding it firmly to make sure her eyes were level with his. “Nothing has changed, I _promise_. Everything will fall into place very soon. We only need to do this one thing and we will be free of him. I can continue training you and Anakin on my own.”

Nodding slowly, Iza drew in a deep breath and turned over the rest of the way to slide her arms around him.

“I apologize, my love,” nestling in close, she nuzzled at his neck and shut her eyes. “I know you would not mess with my head that way. It’s just… a bit frightening to not know what I’ve done.”

“I believe that Tyranus uses compulsions that are meant to wipe themselves clean once the tasks have been completed.” Rubbing a hand along her back, Obi-Wan turned the other one up. “Or, in your case, scramble things around until you complete them. You were an absolute mess when I got to you on Nal Hutta, darling. It was very difficult to pull you back to something _normal_.”

“I remember Nal Hutta,” she shrugged. “Most of it, anyway. But I don’t remember much of being home. I remember upsetting you and I remember feeling…” Iza paused, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth as she hesitated. “…hopeless. But Catcher said there was _nothing_ in me to feel. Is that true?”

“You were very hollow, yes.”

“He has not broken me,” she insisted, looking him in the eye. “He still does not have the right tools for that.”

“You must remember _not_ to give him those tools, Iza.” Holding a finger up, Obi-Wan’s expression became stern. “You’ve done well enough so far, but you frightened me during our last trip.”

“If you’re referring to him strangling me, I’ve grown used to it. I can usually count down to when it’s going to happen and I try to take a breath—”

“No darling,” he shook his head. “It was the aftermath, not the process. I know you and Anakin have your little _agreement_ about using him for compulsion practice, but you manipulated that boy to the point where _I_ could not get in and release him.”

“I don’t remember.” Shrugging lightly, Iza frowned. “ _Cyar’ika_ never said anything.”

“Anakin likely does not recall either, my sweet,” brushing a bit of hair off Iza’s face with a sigh, the older man leaned over and kissed her forehead. “In any case, it no longer matters. I have you back to a place that is more manageable and you’re getting better. Aside from last night’s _mishap_ with the cabbie.”

“ _He deserved that_.” Pinching her mouth, the brunette huffed. “Those were awful things for him to say to me. What if I _had_ been a true Padawan?”

“You likely would not have been walking into such a devious place, darling. Not by choice.”

“I refuse to apologize.”

“ _You murdered a man in public_.” Obi-Wan’s tone shifted, his hand coming back up to grasp her jaw. “This is _twice_ you’ve attempted such a feat. I let it pass the first time because of your _orders_ and because you were not in your own head. But you were clear of mind last night, my darling girl. That is inexcusable.”

“Nobody knows it was _me_.” Narrowing her eyes lightly she fought back the urge to pout and instead, lifted her chin out of his grasp defiantly. “For all they know, he had a heart condition.”

“ _I_ know it was you.”

“For the love of the Force,” rolling over, Iza planted her head in the pillow and grumbled. “Be happy I did not do the same thing to Quinlan Vos for bouncing me on his knee last night. It was quite difficult to maintain such a sweet demeanor with him whispering vile things to me.”

“You would have caused quite a ruckus,” studying her, Obi-Wan drew a hand back and gave a solid smack to the asscheek peeking out from beneath her tunic. The yelp of surprise almost made him grin. _Almost_.

“ _Obi-Wan!_ ” Twisting, she rubbed at her backside and stared at him. “What good are these powers if I am not meant to use them?”

“You may use them when the timing is proper, darling. You do not get to kill anyone who annoys you.”

“I have a little more restraint than that,” Iza snorted. “There would be far more bodies piled up if I didn’t.”

“In any case,” he shot her a look. “You are not to pull that again. You will get much worse than a tap to the backside next time, darling.”

Muttering under her breath, Iza started to bury her face in the pillow again when the older man leaned heavily against her back, pressing her into the mattress. An arm went around her, the hand coming up to take hold of her by the chin once more. She felt his lips brush her ear and suppressed the urge she had to shiver, staring straight ahead and not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction. She got a squeeze to her face and a hard bite to her shoulder in response for her indifference.

“Since you insist on being so defiant,” he put a bit more weight on her, letting go of her chin to find the beaded braid tangled in with the rest of her hair. “I think perhaps _Master Kenobi_ should take over the game today, hm?”

The younger woman hesitated. It was almost a tempting offer, but her game was not meant to be played that way. She’d enjoyed delving back into the softer side of herself and getting to revisit _his_ softer side. It’d been something she hadn’t realized she’d missed. With everything going on with their lessons, there’d been no room for _softness_ with them. Besides, he was always telling her she needed to keep some of the _control_ for herself, and that game had given her quite a lot of it. But she’d also cut _his_ game short. It wasn’t very fair on her part to do that. Maybe she needed to compromise a little bit.

“Just for the night?” She asked, glancing back at him. A faint, amused smile lifted the corner of his lips.

“Yes darling, just for the night.”

 _Fine_. She could handle that. For once, she was not so eager to return to their rough games right away. But if it was only going to be for one night, she did not see much of a reason to object.

“All right,”

Behind her, Obi-Wan hummed in satisfaction and kissed the side of her neck. And then he was giving another strong smack to her backside before he rolled off of her and got up from the bed.

“You will shower and change,” _oh_ —he’d decided to use his _Serenno_ voice. That was going to be a bit unpleasant. “Take care to keep that braid neat and bind the rest of your hair back. I’d like you to look presentable.”

“Yes sir,” she tried to be enthusiastic, but Iza _hated_ that tone of voice. It always put such a weird feeling in her stomach.

“You’re uneasy,” his tone softened. “What is it, darling?”

“Does it have to be _that_ Master Kenobi?” Sitting up on the bed, she cast a look at him and watched him frown lightly in thought. She wondered if he knew that _she_ knew the difference just by the bite in his voice alone. “I would much prefer _my_ Master Kenobi, if you don’t mind.”

“I suppose I can arrange this,” he eyed her. “But you will still follow that order.”

“I have no qualm with the order I was given,” shrugging, Iza scooted off the edge of the bed to get into her bag for her hair comb. “I simply do not wish to have my game ruined by _that_ version of you.”

“Very well,”

“I do not know what you want me to wear, Master,” turning her hands up, the brunette gestured to her bag. “Would you prefer to pick something?”

Obi-Wan watched her for a long moment before crossing the room and lifting her chin, a soft frown twisting his lips.

“You are still hesitant,” he brushed his thumb against her bottom lip. “Why?”

“It does not matter. I will be fair to you and play this way for the evening,” offering a smile, she kissed the pad of his thumb and would have turned away if he’d let her.

“ _Iza_ ,” now he looked concerned. “Darling, talk to me,”

Iza pointed her gaze elsewhere and tried not to sigh too heavily. Damn him for always keeping such close tabs on how she was _really_ feeling. It made lying so much more difficult.

“I enjoyed behaving sweetly with you,” gripping the comb between her fingers, she ran her thumb along the teeth noisily and bit her lip. “It gave me such a lovely feeling. I… do not want to let that go so soon.”

“You do not have to let go, darling,” he palmed her cheek and bowed to kiss the spot between her eyes. “I promised you we would continue for the rest of our time here and I intend to keep that promise. We will save this for the second half of our trip.”

“That is unfair to you,”

“It really isn’t,” he smiled and shook his head. “It is only unfair if I’m not fully enjoying myself— _and I am_ , darling. I do not mind waiting. I am a patient man.”

“But—”

“ _Ah—_ do not argue with me.” Obi-Wan lightly tapped the end of her nose. “This will allow me time to come up with a proper idea of how _Master Kenobi_ would behave with you.”

She almost protested again, but refrained. Instead, Iza gave a slow nod and accepted the kiss he pressed to her lips. There was a sense of relief knowing that she would not have to give up the fantasy game just yet. She still felt a _tiny_ bit of guilt for not wanting to play his way, but he did seem genuinely okay with waiting. Knowing Obi-Wan, it meant he would have many more tricks up his sleeve by the time they _did_ get to his version of the game, and that alone was worth waiting for. Looking up when he kissed her again and gently chucked her beneath the chin with his fingers, Iza returned his light smile before he stepped away.

“Your robes will suffice for now,” he gestured to the folded layers of clothing she’d set aside the previous day. “We will have to launder them later if you are to continue wearing that set.”

“You seemed pretty prepared before,” Iza snorted and went to gather the clothes. “Have you already run out of outfits for me, Obi-Wan?”

“I have run out of things that are _appropriate_ for a Padawan to wear in public.”

“ _Master Obi-Wan_ ,” Iza pretended to look scandalized, eyes wide and innocent. “What exactly do you have _planned?_ ”

He smiled in that soft, simple way of his.

“I have not planned anything, my dear,” she would have believed him if she were her eighteen year old naïve self. “This is simply the fault of the Council. I only have what was given to me.”

 _Oh_ —this sounded familiar.

“Surely the Council would not wish for you to let me wander around in such obscene garments?” She was trying so hard not to smile. _This man_.

“Perhaps we ought to discuss our assignment,” his blue eyes were full of mischief and Iza had a very strange feeling that she was about to have a wicked case of déjà vu. “ _After_ you’ve had your shower.”

“Master,” tentatively, she started towards the washroom, keeping one eye on him. “What have you gotten us into?”

“Nothing you cannot handle, my dear. I promise you that.”

“Mm,” Iza looked him over and could not stop the snort. “Do you think _you_ will be able to handle it, Master Obi-Wan?”

That familiar fire flickered in Obi-Wan’s blue eyes, his smile widening just a fraction. She swore she could see him shaking his head, silently warning her not to play this game.

“Of course, my dear,” he gave a nonchalant shrug. “Would you like me to choose something from the alternative wardrobe instead of your robes?”

“That depends on where you plan on taking me this evening.”

“If you are to wear a costume, we can get a small bit of work done and then we will have the rest of the night free to explore the city.” Obi-Wan moved towards the second bag he’d brought in from the ship, rubbing his chin as he eyed it thoughtfully as though planning out which outfit he might pluck from it. “I know how much you enjoy _exploring_ and I would much prefer that you do it chaperoned.”

“I cannot help it if I’m curious, Master Obi-Wan. Coruscant hardly has anything _exciting_ to offer like the places we go to.”

“My girl, I distinctly remember discussing your fondness for disappearing to The Outlander last night.” He shot her a pointed look. “I shudder to think of the other places you’ve snuck off to when you are not under my care,”

“And as I stated, I only go to these places because I cannot spend my time with you,” the look Iza gave him was one of mild frustration. “I have always been advised not to trouble you during your leisure time, so I find other ways to spend mine. One can only read so many books to keep busy, Master,”

A brow popped up high on Obi-Wan’s head and for a moment, Iza forgot that this was a game. He looked genuinely surprised by the idea that someone had told her not to bother him on their days off. In all fairness—it _had_ been something she’d been told not to do with Master Windu. She’d also been told not to pester any of the other Masters on their days off from training their Padawans so that she would not cause a distraction for them. They needed their rest just as much as everyone else, after all. However—she’d never snuck out during her time as a Padawan under Master Windu. She did not have the same reckless nature as Anakin as a teenager.

“Haven’t I always told you that you are free to come to me whenever you like?”

“Yes, but—” her head was doing something _funny_. Iza couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, but she felt _odd_ the longer this conversation continued. “—I fear you might tire of me if I did that.”

“Have I ever given you the impression that I’m _tired_ of you, Iza?”

The brunette stared down at the floor, brows forked in thought. Her mind scrambled to find a single instance when she’d ever felt like he had not wanted her in his presence. It surprised her when she actually landed on one.

“…yes.” She whispered, nodding. This strange feeling in her head was getting stranger. “Before I became a Padawan, I remember you becoming impatient with me for… _something_. I attributed it to you being frustrated with Master Qui-Gon at the time. I remember that you would sometimes become very flustered after the disagreements you had with him. I think maybe I asked to do a walking mediation in the garden and you—you were _polite_ but you made it very apparent that you were not interested in my company. I don’t think I asked you for much of anything for a while after that.”

Obi-Wan made a face as though he were trying to remember, rubbing a hand over his beard to muffle the murmured swear that followed. He remembered this incident. He could recall it quite vividly now that she’d brought it up. But it amazed him that _she_ had held onto it for so long. Part of him wondered what other memories of him she had saved inside of her head.

“I assure you that it was not my intention to make you feel that way, darling,” he couldn’t help speaking out of character. “I admit I don’t quite recall what it was my master and I were arguing about, but I too remember how my demeanor used to be after a tiff. If I was unkind to you, it was not intentional. You were always a very sweet girl. Very bright and eager. I assure you that your presence was not unwanted. Things were very… different for me back then, is all.”

“Do not take it the wrong way. I hold no ill feelings towards you for it,” Iza shrugged and shook her head. “Even then I understood you were busy with your training. I never held anything against you, Obi-Wan. I may have had a fleeting moment of upset at the time, but I _understood_.”

Yes, he supposed he knew this. He was sure Iza did not hold much against him until he had been made to take Anakin as his Padawan. They’d had the discussion before about everything having been out of his control, but he’d known from his end that the girl had been more than just a little disappointed. She did not visit him as often as she once had and she shied away from him altogether if Anakin was in his presence. He knew Mace had given her some kind of warning to keep her distance from the boy, but she seemed keen to distance herself from _both_ of them entirely during her training years. He’d always wondered if he’d done something to truly upset her. There had never been a spoken promise from him that he would train her if he were to become a Knight by the time she was ready to be a Padawan, but he was sure most people in the Temple had expected it. Still, she’d received brilliant guidance from Mace—despite what _she_ seemed to believe—and she had done very well for herself without him. He did truly regret, sometimes, that he had not pushed for more paired assignments so that she and Anakin might get along better. But Mace had his own methods of training and they rarely included _tag alongs_.

“In any case, Master,” Iza forcefully brightened up her tone and straightened her back, giving another light shrug. “You are allowed your time away from me. If I were to come to you whenever I wanted, you would have no time for yourself.”

“Come here for a moment,” Obi-Wan waved a hand, waiting until she’d gotten close enough to relieve her of the robes she held before drawing her into his arms. Cupping her face gingerly in his hands, he breathed out a soft sigh and bowed to kiss her forehead. “Is this why you cling to me, my darling? Are you trying to make up for lost time?”

Iza let out a strange noise, looking up at him with an expression that was difficult for him to read. After a few moments, she glanced away and thinned her lips. That was enough of an answer for him.

“I did not mean to disappoint you so deeply, my girl,” setting his chin atop her head, Obi-Wan sighed again and wound his arms around her tight. “You must know that.”

“I do not blame you,” Iza said meekly, nestling into his chest. “I do not even blame Anakin anymore. We’ve talked about this. No one had any control over what transpired.”

“I could have tried a bit harder to make time for you as well,” he frowned, rubbing a hand along her back. “I felt terrible that I’d let our friendship wane the way I did. I thought perhaps you’d outgrown your need for my guidance after a while. It did not occur to me that you might be hurt.”

“I never told anyone I was upset,” she shrugged, staring blankly over his shoulder. “I knew what a privilege it was to be chosen as Windu’s apprentice and I felt I had no right to be upset about anything when you’d _lost_ your master. But I was… unhappy. I was very unhappy. I suppose part of me understood that Anakin needed you more than I did, but it just felt so _unfair_.”

“You were a child, darling—”

“I was _thirteen_ ,” she argued, shaking her head. “I should have known better than to feel such jealousy. But to have something _taken_ from me that I’d wanted for years… I did not want anything to do with him. I did not want to look upon his face even when he tried to be my friend. I did not want to see you in the halls with him because I would get this _burning_ in my stomach and start thinking of how I’d been cheated out of the honor of being your apprentice. I learned to avoid certain places during certain hours because I knew the two of you would be there. And when Master Windu would take his leave and make me stay behind, I isolated myself so I would not be invited on _quests_. I was so… _angry_ and he knew it. Windu _knew_.”

“You could have come to me,” his voice was soft, calm. “I know it seems a bit pointless to say it, but I would not have faulted you for being so upset.”

“I was advised not to burden you. You were not my master. If I had troubles, I was to speak to Master Windu or Master Yoda.” The wall she was staring at blurred for a moment before tears trickled down her cheeks. “I chose not to speak to anyone. It’s part of the reason I never told anyone what happened to me on that assignment. I’d grown so used to just keeping things to myself that I felt as though I would be causing some sort of problem if I told anyone, not matter how much Catcher wanted me to. Besides—I never trusted anyone in that place as much as I trusted you. And you were always gone.”

“Iza,” Obi-Wan leaned back to look at her, lightly pinching her chin between his fingers to tilt her head up. She still refused to look at him directly. “Who told you that you would be a burden to me, darling?”

“Master Windu,” the brunette swallowed thickly and took a deep breath. “He said it would be inappropriate for me to trouble you for your guidance when you were busy with a Padawan. He actively discouraged me from befriending Anakin at times. Because, you know, after a while—I’d accepted that you and I would not have the partnership I’d wanted. I truly had come to terms with it. I knew that if I wanted to continue being your friend, I would need to be _Anakin’s_ friend as well. And he was treated so poorly by the others. But Master Windu did not want me to be anything but formal with him. I could acknowledge him in the hallways and speak to him civilly, but I was never allowed to… _bond_ with him as a friend.”

Obi-Wan frowned _hard_ , eyes narrowing slightly. He’d known that Mace had his misgivings about Anakin, but he hadn’t been aware of just how _paranoid_ the man had been. To practically forbid his Padawan from interacting with the boy was a bit extreme, even for him.

“I know I shouldn’t hold onto these things, but sometimes I look at Anakin now and I feel so guilty for allowing myself to be coerced into treating him that way. I should have known that if _you_ trusted him, _I_ could trust him too.” Glancing up at him, Iza pursed her lips lightly and blinked the tears from her lashes. “I often wonder if Master Windu took advantage of my upset and used it to distance me from the two of you. My master was not always as peaceful as he made himself appear. He was very manipulative for a man who prides himself on living so strictly by the code.”

“Darling, I have said before that Anakin does not hold any sore feelings against us for _either_ of our past behaviors and thoughts towards him. I believe even _he_ has personally forgiven you for such things.” Dropping kisses to her forehead, Obi-Wan skimmed his hand up her back and lightly rubbed his fingers against the base of her neck. “I also have told you that your former master was not always honest with you. I am very much of the same opinion that he purposely pulled you away from Anakin and myself, which makes his decision to push you onto us last year even _stranger_ to me.”

“I think he knew I was hiding something from him,” Iza mumbled. “And he knew the only person in the universe who could get it out of me was you. I don’t think he understood just how angry I still was. _I_ didn’t even realize it. I suppose this is also part of the reason I was so… distant with you at first. Being near you brought back a lot of old feelings and I did not know what to do with any of them.”

“I believe Mace always had a motive for everything he did,” humming, the older man shook his head. After a moment or so of quiet contemplation, he looked back down at Iza and sighed. “Have I ruined your game, darling? I did not mean to make these things resurface for you.”

“No,” she shook her head and leaned into him a little more, resting her head on his shoulder. “I think we have much more to discuss here, so breaching the subject was a good thing. We can simply save it for another time. Talking about that man gives me such a headache.”

“Me too,” Obi-Wan turned to kiss the side of her head, lips lingering for a few moments before he smiled slowly. “Are we okay to continue, darling? I do not want to rush you.”

“I think I’m all right,” Iza did not make any move to step away from him just yet. “Can we continue after my shower? I would like it very much if you joined me.”

“That can be arranged,”

~*~*~*~

Finding a nightclub that wasn’t full of lechers had been a bit of a chore, but not impossible. Having decided to _slip away_ from her Jedi Master, Iza had been dancing to her heart’s content for a little over an hour now. She couldn’t recall how many drinks she’d had, but they were watered down and heavily sweetened enough to barely let her catch a buzz. It was, however, enough to make her want to smoke like a chimney. Pounding down what was left in her glass, Iza set it on the bar and squeezed her way between sweaty bodies to get to the outdoor area where the music was not quite as loud and the night air was thick with smoke of all kinds. Straightening the skirt of the slinky dress she wore—blue, a little on the sheer side, much shorter than the white dress had been; Obi-Wan had surprised her by having something like this tucked away in the _costume bag_ —she fanned herself and went to the pouch at her waist to retrieve her packet of cigarettes. After a moment or two of blind searching with a finger, she realized that the thing was empty. She must’ve taken the half packet and not the full one.

“ _Stars_ ,” huffing, she crushed the empty packet in a fist and leaned up against the side of the building with a grumble, wondering if it was worth it to ask anyone out here for one. She still wore the Padawan braid quite proudly—though she’d made sure to leave the lightsaber back at the hotel—and had been getting some _extremely_ wary looks the entire time she was here. If not for the fact that the drinking age on this planet was sixteen, she likely wouldn’t have been served at all. She had a distinct feeling that the bartender was purposely watering her drinks down, however. Usually her head would be a _little_ bit on the dizzy side by now. Realizing she would just have to wait until the part of the game when Obi-Wan caught up to her to get a fix, Iza turned to head back inside when an open packet of cigarettes appeared under her nose.

“Have one of mine,” the deep, casual drawl was _too_ familiar and Iza nearly cringed when she recognized the signature immediately. What the hell was Quinlan doing here? Turning to look up at him with the same soft innocence from the night before, she glanced at the packet in his hand and then back up at him.

“Promise you won’t tell?”

The grin that spread across the older man’s face was _wild_ and wicked. His dark eyes sparkled in the neon lights flickering overhead and he gave a tiny tilt of his head— _just enough_ to let one of his locs go sliding across his forehead.

“Now _why_ would I go and tattle to Obi about something like this?” He pursed his lips at her and Iza caught the quick flick of his eyes as they moved over her. She pretended not to notice. “He’s not even here, is he, Little One?”

Iza shook her head, purposely flicking the narrow braid over her shoulder.

“They seem to like pairing him with the mischievous ones,” Quinlan’s grin returned and he gave the packet of cigarettes a little shake. “Or did you pick him?”

“My former master died in the war,” Iza lied expertly, finally plucking one of the cigarettes from the packet with a light nod of thanks. “Master Kenobi was the only one willing to take me on so late in my training.”

“I can certainly see why he’d choose to do so,” he gave her another not-so-discreet look over and hummed. “How long did it take before he began abusing his power over you?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” popping the filtered end between her lips, Iza got the cigarette lit and almost choked on it. These were much stronger than the brand Anakin was fond of. It had a bit of a funny aftertaste to it, too. Something almost _minty_ that numbed the end of her tongue. “Master Kenobi does not abuse his power in any way.”

“And what do you call _this?_ ” Quinlan reached out and gave the tiniest tug to the collar around her neck. “I know this isn’t a fashion necklace, Little One. I’ve been in the Scene long enough to tell the difference.”

“He said it was safer for me to wear it while we were here,” shrugging a shoulder, the brunette tried not to smack her lips. She didn’t know what the hell was in the cigarette, but she wasn’t entirely sure it was tobacco. It _tasted_ like a normal cigarette for the most part, but the aftertaste was starting to get to her a bit. “It’s just until the assignment is over.”

“ _Ah-hah_ ,” the Kiffar’s grin grew impossibly wider and he moved to lean against the wall beside her. “So he has no hold over you?”

“Well… he’s my Master,” Iza gave him one of her naïve looks and tilted her head. “He has _some_ authority over me until I’m Knighted.”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” turning to face her, he brought a hand up and traced the curve of her chin with a fingertip. “You’re free game.”

“Master Vos, that’s inappropriate,” her head was getting foggy. She wondered if the drinks were finally beginning to catch up with her. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d had sickly-sweet drinks creep up on her. “I apologize if our presence at your club last night was misleading, but we were there on business.”

“ _Business?_ ” a thick brow went up high on his forehead. “And what sort of _business_ brings you to such a place, Little One?”

Taking a deep drag from the cigarette, Iza diverted her gaze and shrugged again. She was halfway through exhaling when he pinched her chin and tilted her head up, forcing her to look back at him.

“We’re tracking someone. A war criminal.” She felt warm. She could feel the slide of her dress against her skin every time she breathed and the lights overhead were starting to become distracting. With every drag of the cigarette in her hand, she felt herself falling deeper and deeper into some kind of strange trance. She wanted to lean into the hand on her face just to feel the texture of his skin against hers. Hell, she wanted to lean further into the wall because it provided a cooling sensation _and_ a different texture that stimulated every nerve ending her bared shoulders had to offer. If she moved her eyes too quickly, objects left trails behind in their wake. She had half a mind to ask if there was something in the bar’s liquor, but couldn’t quite figure out how to form the words once she decided she didn’t care.

“A war criminal,” Quinlan looked amused as he rubbed his thumb against her chin. “I wasn’t aware that the Jedi were taking such assignments.”

“Special request,” taking the last drag from the cigarette, she pinched it out between her fingers the way she’d seen Anakin do a thousand times. The burn of the embers was more like a hot _tingle_ and she rubbed her fingertips together absently as she sank back against the wall. Shutting her eyes for a moment, she felt an odd rush run through her, settling in her belly like the tickle of butterfly wings. She giggled. She wasn’t sure why. The heavy heat of a broad chest covering hers made her gasp and her eyes fluttered open to see Quinlan hovering above her with a curious look on his face. His energy was strangely gentle and calm in comparison to what it’d been the previous night and Iza found herself drawing her bottom lip between her teeth when he reached up again and lightly thumbed the scar on her cheek.

“Let’s get you a drink,” his other hand felt hot and heavy through the material of her dress as he settled it against her waist, nudging her to urge her away from the wall. Nodding dumbly, Iza turned and let him lead her back inside the loud bar, feeling her head buzz and spin as the music thrummed in the air around her. She could hardly keep still by the time they got up to the counter, twisting her hips and rocking lightly while Quinlan just watched with an amused look on his face. She paid him no mind as he leaned over the bar and ordered their drinks, too busy basking in the way that fluttery feeling in her belly seemed to spread through the rest of her and made her want to get lost in the beat of the music. The press of a glass against the lips was startling but Iza drank down the thick, spicy booze as easily as she’d done the night before, tipping her head all the way back until the last drops were gone. She started to catch a tiny bit that had been left behind on her lips when the gentle swipe of a callused thumb got there first. “ _Messy girl,_ ”

Iza stared up at him in wonder, eyes widening a little when he stuck his thumb in his mouth. Something about the way he looked at her with those dark eyes and smiled like a fucking predator felt strangely familiar. She’d seen that look before. She’d fallen for that look before. She didn’t have enough time to think when he slipped a hand around to her lower back again and began to guide her away from the counter. The crowd parted slightly as they approached the center of the dance floor and Iza let out a quiet gasp when his hands slid over her hips and pulled her back against his body.

“You look amazing tonight.” The Kiffar purred into her ear.

“Thank you,” she blushed, feeling him press up closer. “What are you doing?”

“Move with me. Just close your eyes and let me show you…”

Far too comfortable to object, Iza closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of Quinlan’s arms as they encircled her. His hips rocked with hers in perfect rhythm, his breath soft in her ear and warm on her skin. She was losing herself, both in the music and the dance. He felt so damn big pressed against her like that.

“Dance for me,” he murmured, his hands gliding over her hips. He rested one on her belly, fingers trailing just below her navel, rubbing back and forth, grazing her tummy and making it tremble. Iza’s breath caught at the intimacy of Quinlan’s touch. Why was she allowing him to do this? Lolling her head against his chest, she drank in his delicious, heady aroma—a combination of spice and citrus and tobacco—and undulated her hips, swaying to the music. They were close enough to scent each other. Close enough to share a moment of mutual arousal. Behind her, Quinlan moaned, pressing himself against her backside in time to the beat, the tips of the fingers on his free hand coming up to rest beneath her chin and turn her face towards his.

“Master Vos?” She was so dazed. Her breathing was coming in soft, shallow puffs and she felt a pang of anxiety in her chest at the way he looked at her. This wasn’t right. She knew she shouldn’t allow any of this. Her head was just so _foggy_ and she couldn’t bring herself to push him off when he was making her feel so nice. It seemed rude to do such a thing.

“It’s all right, Little One,” he groaned, mouth hovering over hers. “I won’t hurt you,”

“Do you promise?”

Quinlan’s breath was hot as it puffed into her mouth, into her lungs. _He was so close_ … With a rather wolfish smile, the Kiffar twirled her round until she faced him, cupping her shoulders to steady her as her vision spun. Those warm, broad palms skimmed down her back and made a home for themselves on the soft curve of her ass.

“ _I promise_.”

He squeezed her ass hard with both hands, dragging her up the rigid front of his trousers. Iza started to utter a soft, startled sound, cut off when Quinlan swooped down and captured her open mouth with his.


	13. I've Lost My Fucking Mind

All of Iza’s senses seemed to intensify as Quinlan kissed her until her toes curled. His mouth was softer than she’d expected, the scratch of his stubble against her chin sending strange chills down the back of her neck. He tasted like that strange booze he’d fed her; spicy and overwhelming in the most delightful way. It was wrong how she kept leaning up into his kisses, tilting her head for him so their lips could find the best fit. She tried so hard to fight against her body’s reaction to his kiss and his closeness, reminding herself that she was already in love and there was no more room left in her heart for one more. But then he slid his hands lower to the backs of her thighs—parted them—and began riding her through the thin material of her skirt and she couldn’t stop the heavy way she moaned into his mouth. _Wrong_. It was so fucking _wrong_. Her body buzzed from head to toe from a combination of the music and his kiss and the feel of his body against hers. Iza felt like she was going to pass out. Weakly, she gave his chest a thump and got a low chuckle in return.

“Too much?” He teased, slowing the kiss to suck and nibble her pouty bottom lip. “My apologies, little Padawan,”

“You do not even know my name,” Iza swallowed the dryness in her throat, whining when he grasped her ass through her dress again and shifted to tuck a thigh between her legs. “ _Master Vos_ ,”

“No names necessary,” he trailed hot, biting kisses down the curve of her jaw, giving her earlobe a hard tug with his teeth. Growling, he nudged his thigh against her and breathed heavily against her neck. “Go on, Little One. I know you want to.”

“I can’t,” she was shaking. Iza wasn’t sure if it was from anxiety or arousal anymore. Her body _burned_ with need, but she could not bring herself to indulge in what he offered.

“He does not have to know,” Quinlan’s teeth grazed her shoulder, hands skimming up to her hips to grab them and pull her in tighter. “I can give you what your Master will not.”

Letting out a soft, confused little cry, Iza pressed her face to his chest and twisted her fingers in the material of his sleeveless tunic. Everything in her screamed to give in. Despite her reservations, he was making her feel _wonderful_. Her skin tingled everywhere he touched and she hadn’t been able to help the few tiny twitches of her hips when he’d pulled her against his thigh. But she felt _lost_. This was not a man she loved. This was not something that had been agreed upon previously. He was helping himself to her and she was not stopping him the way she should. Perhaps this had been a bad idea, coming here. This whole fucking planet was one big bad idea.

“You do not have to decide now,” he’d slipped his fingers into her hair and was cradling the back of her head. Iza wasn’t sure when he’d moved his thigh out from between her legs, but he had not stepped back. A kiss was dropped to her shoulder before he was sliding an arm around her waist and steering her through the crowd again. It was difficult to keep tabs on where she was or where he was taking her. They stopped somewhere and she propped herself against his side while he spoke to someone and then began leading her elsewhere. The fresh feeling of the night air on her sweat-slick skin stirred her back to something like awareness and the brunette made another soft, startled sound when she was suddenly lifted and settled onto a warm lap. A cigarette was parked between her lips and she was handed a glass before she turned to look at him, dazed, and found him smiling faintly. A crooked finger came up and brushed over her flushed cheek before he leaned in and kissed at her neck.

“No marks,” she mumbled, feeling her head lighten even more as she puffed on the cigarette. It tasted just as funny as the last one and she had half a mind to ask him just what the hell was in it.

“It’s a little late for that,” his chuckle reverberated against her back before he swept her hair away from her shoulders and peppered kisses there too. “I’ll be a bit more mindful from now on.”

 _Fantastic_. Now she had to worry about returning to Obi-Wan with love bites on her skin. That thought put more anxiety in her chest and a heavy breath rushed out of her, followed by a stressed whimper. The gentle press of a broad palm against her sternum startled her a bit and Iza had to fight the urge to sink back into Quinlan’s chest when he nuzzled the nape of her neck and brushed the tips of his fingers beneath one of her breasts.

“He has no hold over you,” his voice was so gentle that it _almost_ put her at ease. _Almost_. “You are free to do whatever you please, Little One,”

She shook her head lightly, bringing the glass of liquor to her lips to down it in one go. She did not let him have the satisfaction of cleaning the remnants from her bottom lip this time, sucking it between her teeth before he even had the chance to notice she’d been sloppy again. She let him take the glass from her and went back to smoking, feeling her body warm further and fall into a strange sensation of being too light and too heavy at the same time. A light tickle against the top of one thigh had her glancing down to find him brushing his fingers in slow strokes dangerously close to where the short hem of her skirt had ridden up. Whining, she squirmed on him in what was meant to be a protest and was rewarded with a heavy growl and a hard drag of nails against her skin.

“You _tease_ ,” he murmured against her ear. “Is this how you keep him in line? Do you sit on his dick and pretend not to know what it does to him?”

“What?” Iza felt her cheeks heat and tried not to squeeze her thighs together. She would _not_ let him know what his filthy mouth was doing to her.

“Tell the truth,” he lightly twisted her beaded braid around his fingers and set his chin on her shoulder. “You’re waiting for the day he breaks and buries his cock in you, aren’t you? You wouldn’t be the first.”

“You’re vulgar,” she turned away from him, taking the last drag of the cigarette and putting it out with her fingers. The hand on her thigh slid higher, a fingertip grazing along the inside and making her jump.

“I can give you what Obi will not,” he was kissing her neck again, leaning against her back and shifting the hand on her chest to cup her breast and squeeze gently. “He will not break as easy as you think, Little One. I told you before—he has Anakin. He has no need for you.”

“He needs me,” Iza growled bitterly, leaning out of his arms.

“Not the way you need him.”

For a moment, that strange feeling of confusion settled into her head again. Iza knew— _she knew_ he was wrong. Obi-Wan needed her. He _loved_ her. These things Quinlan Vos was feeding to her were lies. But somewhere in the blissed out sensations running through her and the cloudiness she’d assumed was the fault of the alcohol, she wasn’t so sure anymore. She did not have much time to contemplate it when she felt herself being lifted and set back on her feet. She turned to look up at Quinlan, but he was quick to place a hand between her shoulders and usher her back inside. The air was stifling hot and she no longer felt the urge to dance. Something prickled along the Force, warm and familiar. It surrounded her with a sense of comfort but she could not pinpoint where it was coming from, nor could she read its source. If Quinlan sensed it, he did not outwardly show it. He only continued to guide her through the room and off towards an area she hadn’t seen before. The lights were dimmer here as they led to a chained off area and a set of stairs. Obediently, Iza began to climb them, drawing in a sharp breath when his hand slid from between her shoulders to her backside.

“Where are we going?” If she thought she was capable of running, she would’ve done just that, but Iza did not trust her legs in that moment.

“Private room,” he smiled down at her in a manner that was almost too reassuring for his behavior. “Don’t worry, I promised you that I wouldn’t hurt you. I don’t break promises.”

She wasn’t entirely sure if she believed him. Still, she climbed the stairs until they reached a room with a door that only opened when he scanned a card through a reader slot. Hesitating to go in first, the brunette stepped inside to find a room that looked suspiciously like the upper area of Hollowed Ground. There was a plush sofa on one side and a small square of flooring that looked like the dance floor on the other. A table sat near the sofa with a large bottle of liquor and two glasses sitting on top of it. The music was not as loud but it thrummed through her body all the same. Jumping when Quinlan brushed past her, Iza watched him cross over to the sofa and drop down onto it, adopting a stance that reminded her eerily of the one Obi-Wan liked to take up when he was in full Bastard mode. He eyed her for a long moment, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, and gave a beckoning wave of his fingers.

“C’mere Little One,” he gave his thigh a pat. “Come relax.”

Iza felt like she was on autopilot as she crossed the room and took his hand, allowing him to pull her onto his lap. He encouraged her to straddle him, a slow smile spreading across his lips when she complied. Humming quietly, he took his time running a hand along her thigh and up over her hip. Smoothing it higher like he was committing her curves to memory, Quinlan snorted out a laugh when his fingers got to the collar she wore and gave a slow shake of his head. Dark eyes flicked up to meet Iza’s green ones before he threaded his fingers into her hair and pulled her down for a deep, drugging kiss. The brunette tensed in spite of how gentle he was, hovering her hands over his shoulders like she wasn’t sure if she ought to shove back or not.

“ _Relax_ ,” he whispered, his free hand sliding beneath the hem of her skirt to grasp her hip and pull her in tighter. He rocked up from the sofa, eliciting a sharp gasp from her. Letting out a low growl, he sucked lightly at her bottom lip and tentatively guided her into a slow rhythm. “There you go. That’s a good girl,”

“Master Vos,” Iza felt _disgusted_ with herself over how turned on she was, but it was almost as though she couldn’t help it. She had been so damn sensitive since he’d shown up. Part of her wondered if he’d put her under some kind of compulsion. Was he that much of a lecher to do such a thing?

“Obi does not deserve you,” he murmured against her neck, the hand on her hip shifting to cup her between her thighs. Another growl rumbled in his throat as he pressed his fingers against the crotch of her panties, drawing a soft whimper from the brunette. “ _Fuck_ , Little One—you tempt me.”

“Please,” Iza pressed her palms against his shoulders, feeling an odd panic start to rise in her chest. “He will be upset,”

“I told you,” he started to brush the fabric aside, mouth moving lower to her chest. “He doesn’t have to know.”

“ _I can’t_ ,”

“You want to,” callused fingertips made slow passes over slick flesh as he mouthed one of her tits through the fabric of her dress. “I bet he can’t get you this wet. I bet he has not even _tried_.”

“ _Quinlan_.”

Quinlan’s head snapped up at the sound of Obi-Wan’s furious voice. He set eyes on the other man for about two seconds before the little brunette on his lap was ripped away. The hard, heavy _crack_ of something colliding with Quinlan’s skull followed and Iza let out a startled cry when a light spray of blood hit her skin. Another sick _thunk_ followed, hollow and wet and gut churning, and Obi-Wan let out a savage growl before a third rang out. Iza stood staring at his back, watching the way his shoulders heaved. She couldn’t see Quinlan but she could see the way he appeared to be slumped on the sofa and she could see the vicious splatter of blood that had been flicked across the wall behind it. The sound of something being dropped drew her attention long enough for her to see the liquor bottle roll beneath the sofa. And then she was suddenly being lifted off of her feet by rough hands and shoved up against the opposite wall. A hard, hungry kiss that tasted like blood and unrestrained violence was pressed to her mouth. The scratch of Obi-Wan’s beard felt magnified by that funny sensation still running through her and Iza started to run her fingers through his hair and wind her legs around him when he pulled her away from the wall and dumped her belly down on the table.

“ _Filthy little bitch,_ ” Up went the hem of her skirt and down came the flat of his hand against her ass. Iza cried out at the sudden stinging sensation, but did not object. A second strike came, then a third. “You disobedient _whore_ ,”

“ _Master Kenobi_ ,” Iza whined and kept her cheek pressed to the surface of the table, hands grasping the edge to keep her steady. “I was a good girl I promise,”

“You taste like _him_ ,” something jingled behind her. Her fogged mind barely recognized the sound of his belt before the leather was leaving a fierce mark behind on her ass. “You have marks on your _neck_.”

“I did not…” she couldn’t breathe. Iza was used to the heavy strikes of his hand but he hadn’t used his belt before. She heard the jingling again and flinched, pressing her face to the table with a whimper. “ _He kissed me!_ I do not know what is wrong with me! I’m sorry, Master Kenobi! _I’m sorry!_ ”

“ _Filth_ ,” the next strike from the belt was not nearly as harsh but it made the brunette jump and cry out anyway.

“ _Ne’tra!_ ” Iza sobbed, sucking in a choppy breath. “ _It hurts_.”

Obi-Wan let out a hard growl behind her and she heard him throw the belt somewhere in the room. His hand came down painfully against the back of one of her thighs and she almost hollered when he grabbed her about the waist and hauled her off of the table. Throwing her hands up in front of her face, Iza ducked her head and shivered, waiting. She would not blame him if he chose to strike across the face, but she hoped he wouldn’t. She had not meant to anger him this way. She knew she should’ve been more assertive with Quinlan but she’d barely been able to _think_. Surely he could not fault her entirely for this? Jerking when he settled his hands over hers to lower them, the brunette squeezed her eyes shut and let out a sob when Obi-Wan’s palms cupped her face.

“Look at me,” he still sounded as angry as ever, but he seemed _somewhat_ concerned. It took a minute before Iza trusted herself not to burst into tears when she opened her eyes. Staring up at him with wide eyes, she watched his features shift and flinched when he tipped her head up further and leaned in to study her eyes. “What have you taken?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head earnestly. “I’ve only had drinks, Master,”

“Did he offer you anything?”

“Cigarettes,” Iza swallowed hard, not daring to blink. “They tasted funny. I thought it was the brand. But I didn’t take anything, Obi-Wan, I promise.”

“ _Sonofabitch_ ,” a snarl curled Obi-Wan’s top lip before he was running a hand through his hair. “He’s drugged you.”

“What?” Her voice was soft, puny. Her blood suddenly felt very cold as it flowed through her veins.

“ _Fucking **animal**_ ,” turning, Obi-Wan kicked the corpse on the sofa with a yell. “ _You are **garbage**!_”

“Master Kenobi,” shaking hands reached out to take hold of his sleeve and Iza flinched when he whirled on her. She wondered why she hadn’t noticed that his eyes had shifted to gold. The color was like liquid fire as he stared her down like he was ready to beat the life out of her next. The blood spattered across his handsome face did not help. Meekly, she pulled her hands back and tried to fight back the urge to cry. “Obi-Wan,”

Giving a loud tut, Obi-Wan reached out and hauled her to him, burying his nose in her hair as she curled into his chest with a weak sob. Perhaps he should not have been so vicious with her. He was just so _furious_. He had arrived at the nightclub in time to see her come inside from the smoking area with Quinlan. He’d tried to alert her of his presence, but she seemed to ignore him. And when Quin had led her up here, he’d fucking _lost_ it. He knew he ought to trust her more than this, but something inside him had just _snapped_ at the idea of her being alone with Quinlan Vos. Perhaps because it would not have been the first time Quinlan had attempted to take a lover from him. Even if the Kiffar had believed her to be no more than his Padawan, it would not stop him from trying to have her _first_. Hell—he’d tried it with _Anakin_ for fuck’s sake. Thankfully, the boy had not fallen for Quinlan’s charms. The same could not be said for some of Obi-Wan’s other inamoratas.

“I’m sorry,” Iza whimpered against his shoulder, pulling anxiously at his jacket. “I’m so sorry,”

“Be quiet, darling,” he huffed back, kissing the top of her head. “Just be silent.”

“ _I love you_ ,” she murmured, burying her face deeper in his shoulder. Above her, Obi-Wan sighed heavily and wound his other arm around her tight.

“I love you, darling,” he tunneled his fingers into her hair, shutting his eyes. “I apologize for hurting you.”

“I deserve it,” she shrugged.

“No,” pulling back, he cupped her cheek and frowned, rubbing his thumb against a spot of blood on her skin. “ _He_ deserved what he got. I should have known better. I let my rage blind me.”

“I did not say _no_ ,” Iza shook her head and dropped her gaze, swallowing hard. “I kept saying _I can’t_ , but I never said—”

“ _Iza,_ ” Obi-Wan grasped her chin firmly and forced her to look at him again. “ _He drugged you_. I do not know what he gave you, but it does not _matter_. I would not be surprised if he put you under some kind of compulsion as well.”

“The cigarettes tasted strange,” the brunette shrugged lightly. “Tingly. Like mint. My tongue went numb, too.”

“How do you feel?” Brushing the hair off of her face, Obi-Wan rubbed more blood off of her skin and watched her shiver.

“Heavy. Warm.” Licking her lips, she gave a weak laugh. “Really fucking horny.”

The older man let out a soft snort and shook his head, a faint smile quirking the corner of his mouth. He didn’t say anything for a minute, taking the time just to run his fingers along the curve of her jaw.

“Well, that narrows it down a little,” he mumbled, stroking his fingers beneath her chin. He pursed his lips in amusement when Iza leaned into the touch. “I think you’ll be all right.”

“Everything feels so intense,” hesitating, Iza reached up and brushed her fingers over his beard, taking a moment to wipe away flecks of blood that had started drying in the coppery hairs. “I… can _feel_ the music. It’s so strange.”

“Mm,” he dropped an arm around her waist, lightly rubbing at the base of her spine. “Now I feel like a monster for having struck you so hard.”

“Don’t,” she shook her head. “I’m all right.”

“May I have a look?” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, tilting his head. “I would like to make sure I did not crack the skin.”

Nodding, Iza reluctantly pulled away and let him steer her around by the hips, a little confused when he urged her to climb back up onto the table. Part of her reasoned that it was probably easier for him to see the damage this way, while the other part questioned his motive. Still, she watched him over her shoulder as he lifted the hem of her skirt and frowned at the welts he’d left on her skin. She jerked slightly when he ran his fingers over one of them, sucking in a soft breath and watching him flick those pretty gold eyes up to look at her.

“I’m sorry, darling,” bowing his head he gently pressed his lips to the sore mark, drawing a quiet whine from her. He moved on to the next one, and then kissed the handprints he’d left behind. Iza really should have expected it when he began trailing his mouth down the back of one of her thighs, but she still gasped and squirmed. She felt him hook a finger in the fabric of her panties and pull them aside before a slow drag of his tongue had her melting against the tabletop. Behind her, Obi-Wan growled deep in his chest and reached up to pull the delicate undergarment down her thighs, tugging them off her legs entirely and tucking them into a pocket. Batting a hand against the inside of one thigh to get her to widen her stance, he hooked his arms around her legs and buried his mouth against her. Iza had to fight not to kick her feet when he swept his tongue in deep, dragging licks, not wanting to accidentally knock him in the head with one of her boots. She could not control the volume of her voice as she moaned, however. Whatever the hell was coursing through her system made her so fucking sensitive that she could hardly keep still. She whimpered when Obi-Wan held tight to the inside of her thighs to keep her from squirming around so much, shoving her fingers in her mouth to stifle the shivery cry that followed the hard swirls of his tongue against her clit.

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,” she knew he could feel her shaking. He likely was focusing his attention on the sensitive little nub because he knew damn well it was the quickest way to unravel her. Iza fought against his hold as she tried to twist her hips, crying out into the tabletop as she dragged her nails over the surface and panted hard enough to make spots dance in front of her eyes. All of the air rushed out of her when he closed his mouth over her and sucked gently. Her back arched almost painfully and she slapped her palm against the table as the pressure building in her belly began to burn and threatened to burst. When he pulled his mouth away, she shouted in protest and started to push up on shaky arms to cuss at him. Obi-Wan only snorted and snatched her off of the table, bringing her down to the floor as he settled on his back and pulled her down over his face.

“ _Greedy little girl_ ,” he murmured, lightly flicking his tongue against her clit. Above him, Iza whimpered and wriggled her hips to try and get closer, pouting when he held tight to her legs and kept her from doing so.

“I liked it better when you called me a whore,”

Obi-Wan paused and _stared_ at her, a brow climbing high on his forehead. When Iza let out another impatient noise and tried wiggling again, he grunted at her and shook his head.

“Mind your mouth, darling,” he went back to the languid passes of his tongue, knowing damn well she was still going to complain. “Don’t say things you do not mean.”

“ _Master Kenobi_ ,” Iza jutted her bottom lip out further, running her fingers through his hair. Rewarded with a pleased hum and a little more freedom to move about, the brunette nudged closer to his mouth and dropped her head back on her shoulders with a heavy moan. She whimpered soft praise as she rocked into the strong swipes of his tongue, shivering and letting out quiet noises of delight. Gasping when he pulled her down even closer, Iza shouted out and folded forward, planting her palms on the floor to brace herself as the burning pressure started up all over again. This time— _thankfully_ —he did not stop, sucking and laving for all he was worth until the brunette seemed to tremble from head to toe and sobbed his name as she twisted her hips until he grabbed hold of them to still her. Iza was still shaking and whimpering when he moved out from beneath her, and she cried out in shock when he looped his arms around her middle and lifted her up from the floor to set her on the table again.

“Are you okay like this?” He’d parked her ass on the edge of the table and stepped between her knees, looking somewhat concerned as he smoothed his hands over every little bit of her he could touch.

“Mhm,” nodding, the brunette reached up and pulled him down for a deep kiss, giggling quietly at the harsh noise he gave when she sucked her taste from his tongue. Leaning back to look at him, Iza brought him in closer and tentatively licked a spot of blood from his cheek and then moved on to another one. “You’re so _messy_ , Master,”

“Darling,” there was a roughness to his voice that hinted she ought to be careful, but he made no move to stop her just yet. Instead, he simply tilted his head when she prompted him to and fought back a smirk as she moved her mouth down to his neck. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“You got it all over,” Iza murmured, fingers moving to pull the collar of his jacket aside. She let out a soft noise of surprise when he snatched her by the wrists and slowly tucked her arms behind her back, eyes widening as she stared up at him. “Master?”

“You did not ask,” the glimmer in his eye was playful, offsetting the dark look on his face. Stepping closer, he leaned down into her and quirked a brow. “What happens when we do not _ask_ first?”

“Darling does not get what she wants,” the brunette answered, trying desperately not to squirm under his gaze.

“You misbehave so soon after I’ve spoiled you,” he tutted, shaking his head, collecting her wrists in one hand to bring the other up to grasp her chin. “Do you need a lesson, my darling girl?”

“No, Master Kenobi,” Iza shook her head and gave him one of the soft, sweet looks she’d been flashing since they’d started the Padawan game. She didn’t think it would work here. She was banking on it not working here.

“Mm,” it was hard to read the look on his face for a good half minute before the hand on her chin was sliding to the slender column of her neck, grasping the sides enough to make her whine and shift her legs in an attempt to keep from squeezing them closed. “ _Look at you_. Pretending to be innocent while you continue to misbehave. I think you need that lesson,”

“But Master Kenobi,” the brunette pouted, watching fire flicker in his gold eyes. “I can’t help it,”

“Are you mouthing off, darling?” He slid his fingers higher to the dip behind her jaw and squeezed hard. “Because it sounded a lot like you were _arguing_ with me.”

“No sir,” she shook her head as much as she could, lightly squeezing her knees against his hips. She saw the way his gaze dropped briefly and flicked back up, his jaw going a bit slack as he quirked a brow at her.

“Have I given you permission to touch me?”

“No sir,”

“And yet,” the position of his hand changed again, fingers clamping tight against the sides of her face as he narrowed his eyes. “ _You’re touching me_ ,”

“I can’t help it, Master,” Iza was quickly melting into a puddle under that harsh gaze of his. She knew damn well it had nothing to do with the drugs in her system, too. For all the sweetness and softness that she loved receiving from him, she could not deny that she _adored_ the violent side of the Bastard as well. As long as his deadly outbursts were not aimed towards her, she would happily worship the ground he spit upon if he asked her to. “Please forgive me,”

“No,” he shook his head, voice soft and low. “You do not deserve my forgiveness,”

Her eyes widened a fraction and Iza did not know how to respond. Another quiet whimper resonated in her throat and she shifted in her spot on the table.

“Master Kenobi,” she fluttered her lashes in an attempt to stave off the odd need she had to cry. A low growl emanated from the older man’s chest and he frowned deeply.

“Do not make sad eyes at me, darling,” he stepped closer until he was fully looming over her, chest pressed snug against hers. “You have been such a _terrible_ girl. Taking advantage of my generosity. Allowing _filth_ to put its hands on you. You can’t even follow the most basic of rules. You have become _spoiled_.”

“It was not my fault,” the brunette whispered, feeling her throat tighten. “Master Kenobi, _please_ —”

“What color are the stars tonight, darling?” His expression did not soften and he did not release her from either hold he had on her, but Obi-Wan’s rough voice sounded concerned enough to shake her free from the game long enough to give a proper answer.

“ _Cin_ ,” she murmured, wondering if he could feel how hard her heart was beating in her chest. He truly frightened her at times when he fell into this headspace, but it gave her some comfort to know that he at least had _some_ grip on himself. Drawing in a deep breath, she shifted on the table to get even closer and rested her chin in the center of his chest even as he began snarling at her. “He tricked me, Master Kenobi. He said such awful things. I’m sorry for misbehaving, my master, but please do not punish me for _his_ wrongdoings.”

Obi-Wan grunted and released her face in favor of snatching her by the roots of her hair. He sincerely had to fight the groan that wanted to burst out of him when she gasped and moaned quietly, but he was not above baring his teeth at her when she wriggled around on the table again.

“ _Sit still_ ,”

“Yes sir,” she tried. Using every ounce of her willpower, Iza did her best to remain as motionless as possible. It was just so damn difficult when he was pulling at her hair and making those fucking animal noises of his.

“You still require a lesson, darling,” he bowed his head and let the end of his nose brush hers. “I will not have you behaving like a disobedient little brat. Is that understood?”

“Yes Master Kenobi,”

“Good.” Releasing her, Obi-Wan stepped back enough to drag her off of the table and spin her around to bend her over the surface. He was careful about where he brought the palm of his hand down against her ass—though he spared no mercy with the strike itself—and tapped her ankles to make her set her feet further apart. A quick tug brought his trousers down just enough to free his cock and he stepped up behind her, planting a hand flat against her lower back as he lined himself up and took her in one hard, swift roll of his hips. Beneath him, Iza cried out in surprise and buried her face against her arms, pushing up onto her toes when he sank as deep as he could get and leaned over to nip her shoulder. A low grunt sounded in her ear when he pulled back and slammed back in, drawing another cry from her as her thighs began to shiver from the sensation. She felt his fingers sliding around her neck and lifted her head up for him, mouth falling open around a strangled sob when he repeated the harsh thrust of his hips. The brush of his facial hair against the side of her neck made her whine, the sound growing louder when the sharp nip of his teeth followed. “Is it too much, darling? Are you too sensitive?”

“No Master,” she shook her head and nudged back on him a little to encourage him. Iza knew better than to fully push back unless he told her to. These small reassurances were permitted, but _he_ controlled the pace and depth— _not her_. “It feels good. You feel so good, Master Kenobi.”

“Tell me the things he said to you,” he fucked into her harder, all but slamming the edge of the table against the wall. “What lies did the filth put into my Darling Girl’s head?”

“He said…” Iza had to take a minute and breathe. It was difficult with his fingers cradling her throat and his weight settled against her back the way that it was. “He said you did not need to know. That he could give me what you would not.” She felt the vibration of a growl against her spine and kicked her feet with a soft mewl when he pressed into her hard enough to lift her toes off the ground. “ _Master Kenobi!_ ”

“Keep talking,” the hard crack of his palm against her ass caught the edge of one of the welts and all of the breath rushed out of the brunette’s lungs in a pained howl. She dropped her head forward briefly as she tried to catch her breath, feeling him shift his hand from around her throat to the hair at the side of her head instead. Warm, damp lips brushed her ear as his heavy puffs of breath blew across her cheek. “I’m sorry, darling. I’ll refrain from spanking.”

Iza only nodded, dazed as hell. Tilting her head against his, she whined at the tug to her hair and scratched her nails against the surface of the table when he repeated the hard dig of his hips.

“He was so _vulgar_ , Master,” she wheezed, eyes sliding shut as her body tightened hard around his cock. She knew better than to come without permission. She also knew better than to beg before she was done following his first command. “He said such nasty words to me. He said… _he said_ …”

“ _Out with it_ ,” punctuating each word with a vicious thrust of his hips, Obi-Wan seemed to revel in the startled sounds she made, free hand slipping around between her legs to rub his fingers in light circles around her clit. “What did he say, darling?”

“You do not need me,” the tears that spilled down her cheeks were hot and too fast for her to stop. Iza wasn’t sure if they were a byproduct of the decidedly brutal way he was fucking her or if she was realizing just how hurtful Quinlan’s words had been. “He said you do not need me the same way I need you.”

Obi-Wan’s breathing changed. It was still heavy and ragged, but it’d slowed considerably like he’d started to really think about the words she was saying. Even the motions of his fingers slowed, though the rhythm of his hips never faltered. A furious sounding snarl suddenly erupted from his throat before he buried his face against the crook of her neck and damn near flattened her against the tabletop, teeth sinking deep into the soft flesh of her shoulder until she wailed again and scrabbled her fingers across the polished wood.

“ _Master_ ,” the brunette couldn’t take much more. She was hanging on by a damn thread as it was. If he continued on this way, she was going to break before she even had the chance to ask for permission.

“ _What. Else?_ ” His voice was raspy and muffled and fucking _dangerous_. Iza stared ahead at the wall, taking note of just how deep the dents were getting, and pressed her cheek to the surface of the table.

“He said I was a _good girl_ ,” she whispered, hoping he could hear her. She did not want to have to repeat herself. “That you did not deserve me. He touched me, Master Kenobi. He touched me and spoke _vile_ things of you.”

Something inside the older man _snapped_. Bellowing out an animalistic roar, he reared back and snatched her by the waist, pulling out just long enough to flip her onto her back and take her again. He covered her completely with his chest, keeping to the hard, pelvis bruising thrusts that drove him impossibly deep and lifted her hips from the table. Noting the way her legs shook as she tried to keep them suspended on her own, he hooked his arms beneath them and kept them spread wide as he stared down at her with a wild look in his eye. Iza seemed completely out of it. She clutched at his wrists with sweaty fingers and gave moaning cries each time his hips met hers, but her green eyes had gone glassy and her bottom lip was slick with saliva. She looked absolutely fucking _mindless_ and he wondered for a moment if he needed to stop and check her. He decided against it when her mouth began moving soundlessly and she lolled her head around on the table, fighting to keep from squeezing her legs together as she dug her nails into his skin.

“Master,” she could barely manage a wheezing whimper, reaching up to lightly paw his chest and skim her fingertips through his beard. “ _Please?_ ”

“Please _what_ , darling?” Obi-Wan was having trouble keeping a grip on himself. The only thing keeping him grounded was _this_. The hot, slick grip of her cunt as it squeezed him; the soft cries he pulled from her as he fucked her like he’d never have the chance to do it again; the stupidly affectionate gaze of those starry green eyes as they stared at him like nothing in the universe mattered but _him_. The possessive rage boiling within him threatened to unravel his carefully crafted barriers and he feared what might happen to the patrons of this bar should he let it free. Reaching a hand up, he squeezed his fingers against the sides of her neck and leaned over her until their noses touched, grinding his hips ruthlessly. “ _What do you want?_ ”

“May I come?” Iza had to grasp his wrist to anchor herself, taking in deep breaths through her nose as her head spun and her vision faded in and out. His hold on her neck was not the culprit. She was so overwhelmed by everything, and she was sure that the drugs were also at fault. Trying to hold on long enough to plead with him wasn’t doing her any favors, either. “Please Master Kenobi, may I come?”

“Who loves you, darling?” He released her throat and slid his hand around to the back of her head, curling his fingers in her sweat-soaked hair once more. “Tell me and you may have what you want.”

“ _You_. Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan loves me.” Iza ran her fingers along his cheek, inhaling each hard gust of his breath that he puffed out.

“Good girl,” nodding, he dropped his forehead against hers and shut his eyes, grinding into her harder even as his hips ached in protest. “Go ahead, darling. Let me have you.”

Iza barely managed to get a soft _I love you_ out before she was arching up from the table and dragging her fingers back into his hair, gripping it tight enough to make him snarl. The cry she gave drowned out the music still playing around them and she buried her face against Obi-Wan’s chest when he shouted out to her in response. She heard the solid _thunk_ of his palm slapping down against the surface of the table near her head as he continued jerking his hips into her roughly until he was spent. She, however, could not stop shaking and rolling her hips up as wave after wave of sensation crashed against her and left her feeling weak. She felt him arch his pelvis slowly to accommodate her for as long as he could until he began hissing softly in her ear, a rogue whimper or two escaping when she tightened on him again and clutched at his jacket to keep him close. When the overwhelming shocks finally began to die down, Iza sagged back against the table with a heavy sob and stared up at the ceiling as the color-rotating lights changed slowly above her and lulled her into a strange, confusing daze.

“It’s all right, darling,” Obi-Wan murmured roughly, arms trembling as he pushed himself off of her chest to give her room to breathe. Resting a hand on her face to pull her attention to him, he wiped a bit of spittle from her chin and smiled as gently as he could in that moment. “You’re all right. I’m here. You’re safe.”

“Obi-Wan,” Iza sucked in a shivery breath when he slipped out of her and carefully slid the panties he’d pocketed back onto her body. Twitching and trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm, she looked around the room and absently stuffed her knuckles in her mouth. When he pulled her upright, she protested and tried to lift away from the hard surface of the table when it pressed against the welts on her ass. “Stop— _Obi-wan_ ,”

“Come here, darling,” he lifted her easily and set her on her feet, keeping a hand on her waist to steady her when her knees wobbled. Shrugging out of his jacket, he wrapped it around her shoulders and encouraged her to put her arms through the sleeves before gently lifting her chin to inspect her face. Her cheeks were flushed and her pupils were still blown out a mile wide. It was quite possible she was peaking on whatever Quinlan had given her. It would account for the way she’d begun chewing at her fingers. Letting out a frustrated sound, the older man tried brushing the sweaty bits of hair off her face and paused when she flinched and stared at him with wide eyes. “Iza?”

“I don’t want to be here, Obi-Wan,” she swallowed hard and cast a glance back over her shoulder at the corpse still slumped on the couch. _Right_. He’d forgotten about that. Giving a nod, Obi-Wan started to walk her towards the door when he noted how slow she seemed to be moving. Turning, he plucked her up into his arms and smiled faintly when she wound her arms around his shoulders and nuzzled her face in the side of his neck. They would need to go out the back. He was quite positive that there were no surveillance droids floating about up here—Quinlan was the type to keep things _clean_ from prying eyes, after all—so he was not terribly concerned with being caught. He did not, however, want to drag Iza through the noise of the nightclub. It was difficult enough to tell whether she’d gotten herself caught in the post-orgasm headspace she often fell into during a rough session, or if it was all because of the drugs. He would not know for certain until they were somewhere quiet where he could take a better look.

~*~*~*~

“Your eyes are so pretty,” Iza murmured sweetly as she lay across Obi-Wan’s lap while he carefully rubbed bacta salve into the welts left behind by his belt. Occasionally, she flinched if he pressed too hard on one of the tender marks, but she seemed mostly content to let him tend to her while she gazed at him dreamily.

“Thank you, darling,” smiling, he leaned over and dropped a kiss to her nose. “Yours are quite lovely as well.”

“Obi-Wan,” she tried not to twist too much in his lap. He had not quite finished with the marks yet, but it felt rude not to look at him directly when she spoke. “I miss Anakin,”

Tutting quietly, the older man sighed. He was not sure what to say to her regarding this. It was not as if he did not miss Anakin as well— _he did_. But they still had several days of vacation left on Pohrell before they would be moving on to their assignment. The time it would take to get back to Odran’oel would not be worth it. They would have to leave almost as soon as they arrived home. Offering an apologetic look, he smoothed his fingers over her skin and tried not to frown.

“I know you do, my darling. Would you like to call him?”

“I suppose,” resting her chin atop her hands, Iza stared at the bedsheets and pouted. After a moment or so, she stuck a knuckle between her teeth and absently began chewing at it.

“Darling,” reaching over, Obi-Wan pulled her finger from her lips and shook the little box of candy chews he’d gotten out of a vending machine in the hotel lobby. Sighing as he watched her tip a couple into her hand and pop them into her mouth, he turned his attention back to the welts to apply more salve. “When I have finished here, we shall call him.”

“Why do we have to be away for so long?” These damn candies were murder on her jaw. They helped a bit with the strange urge she had to chew on anything she could put into her mouth, but it was like trying to bite into boot leather the first few times. “Why can’t we just… do the assignment and go home?”

“Unfortunately darling, we must stick to the schedule.”

“But…” she pouted harder, face screwing lightly. “I am so _tired_ of being away. I understand why Catcher feels detached from me. We are never home, Obi-Wan.”

“Iza,” having finally finished, Obi-Wan carefully slid her panties back into place and urged her to turn on her side so he could look at her properly. Taking a moment to clean his fingers off on the cloth he’d retrieved from the washroom, he reached over and lightly pinched her chin. “I promise you that this will be the last time we have to leave for an extended period.”

“We have to return to Serenno after this _assignment_ ,” Iza grumbled, turning away from the touch. “You cannot promise such a thing.”

“Darling,” working his jaw, he tried like hell to keep from becoming frustrated. He had to tell himself that this was likely a side effect of the drugs. He had never imbibed _any_ sort of spice, but he’d seen what it did to other people and the agitation and sensitivity seemed to be a common issue with most of them. _Plus_ —she was still in the stages of aftercare. Iza was probably feeling quite vulnerable after such an intense romp. He would also not be surprised if his attack on Quinlan had left an impression on her mind as well. _He_ certainly could not keep from recalling the sheer amount of anger he’d felt. “Please do not upset yourself. It will not be long at all before we are home.”

“I want my boys,” she huffed, rolling back onto her stomach.

“I apologize, my love, but you will have to wait.”

“I do not _want_ to.” Pulling her legs out of his lap, Iza curled up on her side with her back facing him and covered her head with an arm. Obi-Wan felt that familiar cold ache in his gut before he saw her shoulders shiver and with another quiet tut, he moved to settle behind her, running a tentative palm along her side.

“You must know that if I could take you home, I would,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “I am not trying to make you suffer, my girl,”

“It’s unfair,” she sniffled, weakly smacking the surface of the bed. “I was not allowed to know anything about this trip, I cannot even tell Anakin or Catcher where we are, and _you_ still have not told me anything about where we are going after we leave Pohrell. I know nothing of this fucking _assignment_. For all I know, you’re taking me somewhere to do to me what you’ve done to Quinlan!”

“ _I beg your pardon_ ,” Obi-Wan knew he should’ve been gentler about the way he turned her over, but he could not help how offended he felt by the accusation. Twice now, the brunette had thrown her hands up in front of her face as though she was afraid he was going to slap her. And twice now, he’d been made to feel like a fucking _monster_ for it. He hated that she’d grown so used to his abuse on Serenno that she’d come to expect it like this. He had half a mind to sink a compulsion in her head to make her stop doing it, if only so he no longer felt sick when made to witness it. Exhaling through his nose, he gently nudged her hands away from her face, unsurprised when the brunette turned her head away and kept her eyes closed tight. For a moment, he just looked at her, feeling disgusted with himself. He did not want to do this to her. He did not want to keep her away from their home or the boys. He had thought this little vacation would do her some good—and it _had_. She felt more like herself than she’d had before the end of the war. He wasn’t sure how he’d managed to do it, but he seemed to have nudged back that horrible side of her that Tyranus had yanked forth. The only trouble was—he had no idea how long it would last. Stretching a hand out, he brushed his fingers against the side of her face, watching her eyes crack open warily. “Darling, I will not hurt you,”

“I want to go _home_ , Obi-Wan,” Iza’s face began to flush a darker shade of pink as her jaw wobbled and her features twisted even more. The tears in her eyes gathered into hot pools that spilled out of the corners and into her hair and she pressed her lips together so tight that they began to turn white around the edges. Her next harsh, huffy breath almost undid him. Had he not known that this assignment would be their _last_ , that it would be the key to being rid of Tyranus after all of this torture—he likely would have crumbled for her. Instead, he gave a slow shake of his head and bowed to press a kiss between her eyes, earning himself a loud sob that would ring in his ears for the rest of the night.

“I’m sorry, my darling,”

“Do not touch me,” she pushed him off with weak hands, rolling away and attempting to get up from the bed. Her head spun a little bit and her knees were still a bit shaky, but Iza managed to get to her feet and start towards her bag before she felt the tug behind her navel that rooted her in place. Letting out a frustrated shout, she smacked her fists against her thighs like a child and turned back to look at him. “Let _go!_ ”

“Iza,” he moved off the bed and stepped just close enough to keep her attention. He would not make the mistake of getting within arm’s reach. Obi-Wan did not think she would lash out at him through the Force. “Please understand that this is not something I _want_ to do. I do not _want_ to keep you away from home.”

“ _But you **are**!_” She stomped a foot and pulled at the hem of the borrowed tunic she wore. “You are keeping me away from home, from my _cyar’ika_ and my Catcher. I would not mind being brought back to this place for our games if I knew we were to return home soon. But you intend to drag me _somewhere else_ , Obi-Wan. After months and months of suffering, you want me to suffer _more_. **_I’M TIRED_**.”

“This is what you wanted, darling,” Obi-Wan spoke softly, carefully. “You asked for these lessons and I got them for you. I warned you that it would _not_ be a fun experience. I am deeply sorry, my love, but this is not the Jedi Order. You don’t get to just walk away from this because you have changed your mind.”

“You are _cruel_ ,” Iza shook her head slowly as new tears trickled down her cheeks. “You do not _care_ about how this hurts me.”

“Of course I care, darling,” he cautiously stepped closer, frowning hard. “I _hear_ you. I _feel_ how upset you are. It does not bring me any pleasure to deny you the privilege of going home. But _you_ must understand that I have orders, and _you_ are part of those orders. We both know what happens when we do not follow Tyranus’ orders, don’t we, darling?”

Iza stared at him for a long time, saying nothing. He could see her working her jaw and silently hoped she wasn’t chewing at her tongue. He didn’t want to turn away to get the box of candies. Not yet. After a while, the brunette sucked in a shaky breath and dropped her defiant gaze, turning away from him.

“I want Anakin.”

“You may call him,” he wouldn’t release her just yet. He wasn’t entirely sure if he trusted this sudden submission. When she jerked her head to look back at him and shook it, he knew he’d made the right decision.

“No,” Iza twisted the material of the tunic between her fingers and fidgeted in her spot. “I _want_ him here. I want both of them. If you will not let me go home, then I want them brought to me.”

“We do not have enough time—”

“Anakin knows all of the fastest flight paths,” she scowled a little bit, almost as if she were offended on the younger man’s behalf. “If anyone could map out a quicker route than the one we took, it’s him.”

“Iza,” crossing the space between them, Obi-Wan cupped her face in his hands and leveled their gazes. For a long moment, he contemplated whether or not it was worth it to manipulate her mind a little bit to make her stop her nonsense. He understood her frustration, but there was nothing that he could do. Not until all of this was _over_. Stroking his thumb against her cheek, he shook his head. “ _No_ , darling. This is _our_ trip. You must be patient.”

“You’re so _mean_ ,” she whimpered, features softening as her eyes began to fill with tears once more.

“It is not my intention, my sweet,” bowing, he kissed her forehead and sighed heavily. “I do not enjoy any of this, Iza. I would love nothing more than to return home to Anakin with you. But we _must_ finish this, my darling. And we cannot do that with them here.”

“Please?” Iza’s voice was so soft and so desperate that Obi-Wan could feel the edges of his resolve beginning to fray. She made it even worse when she sniffled and leaned up on her toes to press her damp cheek against his. “ _Please, Obi-Wan?_ ”

He had a choice to make. Every outcome of each decision was decidedly _terrible_ , but he was trying to quickly pick through and find the one that might cause the least amount of problems for them. It wasn’t easy. She wasn’t going to be happy. He hated himself a little bit for that. But if he was going to let her down, he didn’t want to do it in a manner that would have her even more upset with him. He’d already treated her with a heavy hand that evening. She was still very much lost in the throes of _whatever_ was running through her system and if he could somehow _try_ and make this a little less miserable, he wanted to do that. He just had to hope she wasn’t going to start screaming and throw herself back into that awful place she’d been in before Nal Hutta. Curling a hand around the back of her head to cradle it, he began peppering little kisses across her face while she whined and pawed at him, hesitating when he pulled his head back to look at her. _Fuck_ , he didn’t want to do this. As the fingers of his other hand absently rubbed along the tiny braid she had tucked behind her ear, he gave a slow shake of his head and felt something in the center of his chest drop at the way the last bits of hope faded from her eyes.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he dipped his head to continue littering her face with kisses as though it might help ease the sting. He had a feeling it did absolutely nothing of the sort. “Please forgive me, but I cannot grant this to you.”

Iza let out a quick rush of breath and sagged forward into his chest, grasping the front of his shirt and pulling at it as a hard sob wracked her form. She curled into him, hooking her chin against his shoulder as more strangled sounds left her. Releasing her from the anchor, Obi-Wan lifted her gingerly into his arms and sat on the edge of the bed, feeling like an absolute _monster_ as he rubbed a hand along her shivering back and listened to the heartbroken way she wailed. He truly hated this. If he had not been so concerned for her mental wellbeing in the first place, perhaps he could have brought the other two men along for the first half of this trip. But Iza had needed recalibrating and he could not make attempts to do that with them around. _Especially_ not with Anakin around. He loved the boy with everything in him, but the two of them together seemed to offset some rather strange things within each other at times. He doubted very much that he’d have been able to have this much progress if Iza had been allowed to remain in the younger man’s presence. As for Catcher—the clone was hesitant about his _methods_ as it was. Even though Obi-Wan had simply adopted and adjusted the same damn methods the other man had once used before, he was quite sure that Catcher disapproved of the _delivery_. No, it would not have worked out very well if he’d allowed them to come along on this excursion. Not at all.

“Iza, my sweet,” nosing at her temple, Obi-Wan tried to readjust the way she sat slumped in his lap, frowning at how limp she’d gone. “Darling, please look at me,”

It took a minute before Iza picked her head up. She stared at him with wet, glassy eyes that were beginning to brighten around the edges. Tears stained her flushed cheeks and she still sniffled and whimpered, coughing out light sobs in between. She looked like she wanted to flinch away when he brushed his knuckles against her cheek to wipe away some of the tears, mouth twisting in a hard frown as her eyes narrowed angrily. He did not see _hate_ in her eyes, so he considered that a plus. He was not, however, a fan of how hurt she looked and felt.

“You know I would give you the stars if you asked for them, darling,” stroking her cheek with the pad of his thumb in some sorry attempt to soothe her, Obi-Wan breathed a hard sigh and moved some of the hair off of her face. “It gives me no joy to do this to you. You _must_ know that.”

“I want to call _cyar’ika_ ,” her voice was thick and rough with uncried tears and it made him hesitate for a moment. Obi-Wan knew well enough that Anakin would throw a fucking _fit_ if he saw her in this state. The boy was so sensitive about things like this. “You said I could.”

“Will you do me one favor?” He asked, raising a brow. Iza shrugged nonchalantly. She didn’t appear to care about much in that moment. That bothered him a little. “Will you wash your face? We do not want Anakin to worry for you, darling.”

She huffed at him, turning away and moving to scoot off of his lap. When he slipped his arms around her and pulled her back, the brunette whined and gave his shoulder a weak thump with her hand.

“ _What?_ ” The look she gave him hurt something deep inside of his soul. “What do you want, Obi-Wan?”

“Please do not be so angry with me, Iza,” he tried to palm her cheek and she turned away from the touch. “My darling girl, I am not trying to hurt you on purpose.”

“Perhaps I should stop giving you things _you_ want,” Iza fixed him with a hard frown and narrowed her eyes. “No—I will _not_ wash my face. I will let Anakin see how you’ve hurt me. I will not cover up for you, Obi-Wan. It’s unfair of you to ask me to do so.”

“Iza,” he wasn’t sure if he ought to launch into his speech about _guilt trips_ or not. “You will not get me to change my mind this way. If I could let you have what you want, I would give it to you. But I _can’t_ , darling. I just _can’t_.”

“He was right, wasn’t he?”

“What are you talking about?” Obi-Wan frowned, visibly confused.

“You do not need me the way I need you.” Iza’s broken expression made him sick. The implications behind those words made him even sicker. “I am still just a—”

“ _Quiet_ ,” he pulled her in for a kiss meant to silence her, growling when she refused and smacked his shoulder again. Leaning back to stare at her, Obi-Wan pressed his lips together tightly and shook his head. “ _Of course I need you, darling_.”

“For what?” She pouted bitterly. “What do you need me for if you are only going to deprive me of what I want and hide things from me?”

“I am hiding _nothing_ from you.”

“ _Where are we going, Obi-Wan?_ ” She stared him dead in the eye, jaw set and fingers hooked tight in the front of his shirt. “Where are you taking me?”

He drew in a deep breath. He had a decision to make. A very delicate decision. He supposed he could rest _somewhat_ assured that she would not tell Anakin where they were going and that the boy would not be able to influence her over their commlinks to find out. But telling her also meant having to begin preparing her much earlier than he wanted to. He’d hoped they’d get a little more _fun_ in before he had to do that. Perhaps they still could, if he timed this well enough.

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,”

“Mandalore.” He said flatly, voice little more than a whisper.

“Mandalore?” Iza gave a stunned shake of her head before tilting it. “Our assignment is on _Mandalore?_ ”

“Indeed it is, darling.”

The brunette studied him for a long time, green eyes searching his face. After a while, she sat back and frowned again.

“And what’s our assignment?”

 _Fuck_.

“An assassination,” he nearly couldn’t get the words out. When she continued to look at him expectantly, Obi-Wan ran a hand down his face and tried not to swear. “We will be eliminating the Duchess of Mandalore, my darling girl.”

Suddenly, he _really_ needed a cigarette.


	14. Careful With Me I'm Volatile

“Sweetness, are you all right?”

Iza blinked and shook herself out of the light daze she was in, looking up at the holo image of Anakin that appeared to sit just beside the tub. He looked dreadfully concerned for her, a frown twisting his handsome, grease stained face. He’d been working in the hangar when she called and he’d taken the disc into the gunship he was working on for privacy. Iza sat soaking in the hot water of her bath, occasionally bringing the filtered end of a cigarette or the glass of whiskey to her lips. Her body still buzzed from the drugs she’d been given and there was no telling how much longer they would last in her system. She hadn’t spoken to Obi-Wan since their argument. It had to have been at least two hours now.

“M’fine,” she murmured, doing her best to offer a smile. She wished she could pull him out of that hologram and into the tub with her. She’d give her dominant hand to snuggle into his chest and let him call her sweet things while he played with her hair. “How was your day, love?”

“Uneventful,” he shrugged, idly twirling the hydrospanner he held between his fingers. “Unless you count the weird conversation I had with Catcher this morning after the two of you hung up.”

“Weird conversation?” Leaning forward to put her cigarette out in the dish beside the tub, Iza rested her chin against her knees and gazed at him. The dark spot of grease on his cheek was distracting. She longed to reach out and rub it away with her thumb. He’d probably make that bashful little noise he always made when she did something like that, and then he’d put his tools down and pull her onto his lap. He’d probably kiss her and it would be soft and gentle and sweet—at least, at first. She could practically feel his fingers running up and down her back, pretending to be innocent as they wandered. And then he’d let his thumbs graze her breasts and chuckle and say it was an _accident_. The next sneaky little touch would come in the form of him pinching her nipples through her shirt, but he wouldn’t apologize for that. He would only do that _thing_ where he rested his forehead against hers and watched her with those pretty blue eyes of his while tugging and rubbing at the tight peaks until she was squirming in his lap and moaning against his lips. _Fuck_ , she wanted him. She wanted him _so bad_.

“Sweetness?”

“Mm?” Picking her head up, the brunette blinked and found him eyeing her oddly with a curious sort of look on his face. After a moment, he started to smirk.

“You’re panting,” he pointed the hydrospanner at her and quirked a brow, a teasing grin curling his lips. “What’s on your mind?”

“You.” Sitting back against the wall of the tub again, Iza absently began chewing at a knuckle.

“ _Really?_ ”

“I miss being in your lap,” lightly grazing her fingertips against the tops of her breasts, the brunette pouted around the knuckle between her teeth.

“What else do you miss?” He shifted in his seat, leaning back a little as he tilted his head and continued twirling that damn hydrospanner.

“Your mouth, your hands,” Iza smiled and shrugged a shoulder. “The way you moan at me when you tell me you’re about to come. I miss _that_ a lot.”

“You’re _horrible_ , sweetness,” blowing out a breath as he raked his fingers through his hair, Anakin chuckled and dropped his head back against the wall. “ _Fuck_ ,”

“I want to. I want to so bad, _cyar’ika_.”

“You at least have the luxury of Obi-Wan,” he pursed his lips at her and snorted. “I have my hands until the two of you get back.”

“But I do not _want_ Obi-Wan,” sitting up again, the brunette shifted in the tub to lean against the side and propped her chin on top of her hands. “I want _you_.”

“Sweetness,” he looked like he was almost regretful for what he had to say to her. “You know I’d be there if I could. Trust me, if I could be _anywhere_ else but here right now, it would be in that tub with you.”

Letting out a soft, sad huff, Iza rested her cheek against her hands and frowned down at the floor. She had that overwhelming urge to cry again and she _still_ wasn’t sure if it was because she longed to go home, or if the damn drugs were at fault. Whatever the reason, she hated it. She hated it _a lot_.

“Iza,” Anakin finally set the hydrospanner aside and straightened in his seat, leaning forward as if he could actually reach out and touch her. “Sweetness, don’t cry.”

“I want to go home,” she murmured quietly, glancing up at him with watery eyes. For a minute, Anakin just studied her, and then his features hardened slightly.

“Has he been cruel to you? Because if he has, I swear to the Force I’ll kick his fucking—”

“I’m just _tired_ , Anakin,” no, Iza would not be the cause of conflict between the two men. She had already made a personal decision not to let her younger lover know how much Obi-Wan had upset her. She would just have to pass this off as being homesick. “I’m tired of everything. I just want to go home and _stay_ home.”

“What about this assignment?” He sounded annoyed. She couldn’t blame him. “Can’t the two of you just… _do it?_ ”

“He said we had a schedule to keep. I don’t know. He still won’t tell me about it.”

“That’s sithspit,” growling, Anakin leaned over in his seat to grab something and came back into frame with a cigarette parked between his lips. The sight almost had Iza reaching for the packet sitting on the floor, but she didn’t feel like moving. “I don’t understand why he’s keeping it so hush-hush—from _either_ of us. But especially you. You’re the one that has to help him.”

“I don’t know, _cyar’ika_ ,” she _would_ reach out and pick up the glass of whiskey, however. “All I know is that we’re here for another few days and then we leave for this other place.”

“Where _are_ you?”

“You know I’m not allowed to tell you,” sighing as she knocked back what was in the glass, Iza reached for the bottle and twisted off the cap. “I would’ve already done so if I could.”

“He’s done something to your comm signal, I know that much.” Anakin made a face, appearing to eyeball the bottle. “How much of that have you had, sweetness?”

“Not enough,” scoffing out a laugh, the brunette didn’t bother pouring it into a glass and instead drank straight from the bottle. “What do you mean he’s _done something_ to the comm?”

“He shut off your locator. He had to have done it while you two were still here because I haven’t been able to figure out where you are since you left.”

“Go fucking figure,” sitting up, Iza tipped more of the booze down her throat and grumbled at the burn it left in her mouth. It really wasn’t what she wanted, but hopefully it would drown out all of the ugly thoughts swirling around in her head. “I would turn it back on, but—”

“I know, I know,” Anakin no longer seemed interested in his cigarette. His eyes were very much glued to the pair of tits that had suddenly been put on display. “We can’t go upsetting the Bastard.”

“What are you looking at, Skywalker?” Oh— _she knew_. Iza had watched the way his blue eyes fell from her face to her chest the moment she’d sat up in the tub.

“Nothing,” he smiled innocently, eyes flicking upward for about two seconds. His brow popped up and that innocent smile turned wicked. “Water getting _cold_ , sweetness?”

“ _A little_ ,” taking another quick pop from the bottle of whiskey, Iza leaned out of the tub to set it aside and went to pull the drain. “I think I can get away with one more round of hot water before I have to go to bed.”

“I’m surprised he hasn’t come in to check on you yet,” Anakin moved out of frame again to put his cigarette out, absently rubbing at his cheek and smearing the grease spot.

“ _I’m not_ ,” Iza muttered, making a face. She pretended not to see the look Anakin gave her and simply plugged the tub again before turning the hot water on.

“Iza?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Anakin,” leaning up against the side of the tub, she made a big show of propping her tits on top of her arms to distract him and huffed. Eyeing him, she took note of how he’d managed to smudge the grease around on his face and tutted playfully. “Look at you. _Filthy boy_ ,”

She heard him inhale sharply and let it out in a quiet groan. His blue eyes seemed to darken as they stared at her for a long moment before he shook his head and smiled.

“Don’t do that,” it was hard to tell if he was actually pleading or not. “That’s not fair,”

“What’s not fair?” She tilted her head and gave him one of the soft, sweet looks she knew would turn him feral. “I’m nice and clean, Anakin. _You’re_ _dirty_.”

“You’re a damn tease is what you are,” shaking his head again, he waved a finger at her and gestured. “You’re also going to overflow that tub.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” twisting, Iza shut the tap off and blew out a breath. She could hear Anakin chuckling behind her and glanced back at him, pursing her lips lightly. “What are _you_ laughing at?”

“I’m not laughing at anything, sweetness,” he smiled affectionately. “I promise,”

“Better not be,” reclaiming her spot against the side of the tub, Iza sighed quietly and propped her chin in her hand. She gazed at him in silence for a long time, idly chewing at a fingertip while he simply looked back at her. After a while, she sighed dreamily up at him. “You still give me the worst butterflies, Anakin. I fucking adore you.”

“ _Iza_ ,” he let out a sound like a nervous laugh, brows knitting together lightly like he was confused. “Sweetness, where did _that_ come from?”

“Does it matter?” She shrugged, reaching to brush her fingers along the transparent curve of his knee. A sad look crept across her face when her touch went straight through the holo image. She wasn’t sure why she’d expected to feel anything but air. Her belly clenched and she felt the rush of breath gust out of her nose before she could stop it, covering her mouth with her hand and turning away before he could see her features twist.

“Hey,” his voice was soft, but it did nothing to stop the tears that were already rolling down her cheeks. “Iza, it’s all right. You’ll be home soon, sweetness. You just have to remember that.”

“It isn’t _fair_ ,” slapping her hand down against the surface of the water, Iza tried to stifle the sob that followed so that Obi-Wan would not come running in. “I hate this! I miss you and I miss Catcher and I miss Starscape. I can’t _stand_ this anymore, Anakin. I just want to go _home_.”

“I know sweetness, I know,” Anakin frowned deeply, looking very much like he wished there was more he could do for her. “Will you look at me for a minute? Please?”

It took a moment before Iza scrubbed the heel of her hand against her eyes and turned to look up at him, jaw wobbling lightly.

“I love you,” he said earnestly, a small smile lifting the corner of his lips before he gestured off to the side. “ _Catcher_ loves you. You know good and well if I knew how to find you, I would’ve been there by now with him in tow.” His eyes went a little sad, but he continued to smile. “But Obi-Wan does not want us there for a reason and we have to respect that. As fucking _stupid_ as it is, we don’t have a choice. This isn’t easy for any of us, sweetness. I’m sure he does not feel good about isolating you either. You and I both know he can be a bastard, but he would not do this without a reason.”

“You are taking his side,”

“I am _not_ , Iza,” he frowned. “I hate this just as much as you do.”

“I’m going to turn my locator on,” leaning out of the tub to grab the disc, Iza was startled when the holo image of Anakin’s hand shot out to stop her.

“Don’t,” he shook his head when she looked up at him. “You’ll only cause trouble for yourself.”

“ _Anakin_ ,” the brunette didn’t know what else to do other than whimper and thump her palm against the side of the tub.

“Sweetness, please. Please don’t.”

“You are just as mean as he is,” turning so her back faced him, Iza dragged the back of her wrist across her eyes and huffed noisily.

“Sweetness, I’m sorry,” Anakin genuinely sounded remorseful, and she swore she heard him move out of his seat. “I’m not trying to be mean. I just don’t want you getting in trouble. I want you home just as much as you want to be home, but there’s nothing we can do. He was very firm about the rules.”

“ _Fuck him and his rules_.”

“ _Iza_ , don’t be like that. You can be as upset as you want, but you know Obi-Wan would not plan something out like this if—”

“ _If he didn’t have a reason_ ,” she mocked, making a talking motion with her hand before folding her arms over her chest. “Catcher would not do this to me. He’d be halfway here by now.”

“ _Don’t do that_ ,” the younger man’s tone shifted. “Iza, stop trying to make me feel worse about this than I already do. This isn’t my fault and you know it.”

“Maybe I’ll call him instead,” she didn’t look at him when she turned around to grab the bottle of whiskey. She didn’t think she needed any more. Her head was fuzzy enough. “At least I know he’ll _listen_ when I tell him I’m fucking miserable.”

“I _hear_ you, sweetness. I _do_. But there isn’t anything I can do. I don’t know how many times I have to say it.”

“You could do more than sit there and baby me, Anakin,” taking a long pull from the bottle, Iza stared up at him and frowned. “You could try talking to the Bastard. He listens to _you_.”

“Not always, sweetness,” he shook his head, sighing.

“Fine. _Fuck it_. Forget I said a damn thing. Go back to tinkering with the fucking gunship. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Iza, stop it,”

“I’m hanging up now, _cyar’ika_. I love you.” She started to lean out of the tub again and paused when she caught sight of the look on his face. Anakin seemed torn between being frustrated and _hurt_. Iza knew in the back of her head that she was not being very fair to him, but she wasn’t trying to be. She was trying to stir him up and get him to do what she wanted. If she could not influence him over the comm, then she would just have to twist his arm the old fashioned way. It wasn’t _nice_ and it wasn’t _fair_ , but it was effective. It brought her no joy to have to manipulate him like this. It was much easier to reach into his head and give tiny little suggestions that way. It was much less harmful.

“You are being very unkind to me,” Anakin said softly, lips twitching into a frown. “This isn’t _my_ fault.”

He’d said that already, hadn’t he? She knew she should probably back off a little bit on that angle for the sake of not starting a real fight between them. But Iza couldn’t help feeling as though he hadn’t done enough to prevent Obi-Wan from making up these stupid rules. She knew how their dynamic worked by now. The older man was definitely the one in charge, but Anakin could get him to break just as easily as she could most of the time. She didn’t understand _why_ he hadn’t at least tried to help.

“I couldn’t even make him tell me where he was taking you, Iza,” Anakin heaved out a sigh and rubbed his palms over his face with an irritated growl. “I don’t know why you seem to think I can get him to do _anything_ regarding this at all.”

She had an answer on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t want to say it. It wasn’t _nice_ and it would likely hurt her more than it would hurt him. Slumping against the edge of the tub, she stared down at the floor and covered her face with an arm, whimpering.

“Sweetness,” he tutted, tone shifting again. “Iza I’m sorry,”

“I just want to go _home_.”

“I know you do,” his voice went soft again. She could almost feel him brushing his fingers through her hair if she concentrated hard enough. “You just have to hold out a little longer.”

“Please talk to him,” she picked her head up and pouted hard, watching his expression soften. “ _Please, Anakin?_ ”

“I will try, but I can’t promise anything,” he relented. “You have to swear to me that you won’t try goading Catcher if I’m not successful. We could get into more trouble if he comes after you, sweetness.”

Iza wanted to object to this. Even though she knew he was right, she didn’t want to have to give up her trump card. She also knew, however, that this was likely the only way Anakin would even agree to speak to Obi-Wan. Something was going to have to give. She didn’t have much of a choice.

“Fine,” she mumbled, making sure to look him in the eye so he knew she was being honest. “I will not say anything to Catcher.”

“Thank you,” Anakin smiled affectionately. “I’ll do my best with Obi-Wan, but I can’t promise anything, sweetness. He was very adamant about not telling me _anything_ about this trip at all. I’m sure he’s going to be a bit put off that you’ve even said anything to me about wanting to go home.”

“He knows I want to leave,” Iza muttered, shrugging. “He would not even compromise and let you two come here. I know this is supposed to be our vacation and I’m _very_ grateful to have this kind of time with him, but…”

“You’re starting to feel like it’s unbalanced,” the younger man hummed quietly and gave a light nod of understanding. “Sweetness, what did I say to you when we first finalized the relationship?”

The brunette stared at him for a moment before falling deep into thought, mouth curving at the corners in a frown as she tried to remember. He had said a _lot_ of things. It was difficult to pinpoint just one. It was even more difficult since her brain had been through the wringer _and_ she was a bit intoxicated. Finally, she gave him an unsure look and raised an eyebrow.

“You didn’t want me to feel like I had to stretch myself so thin between all of you. I think.”

“Mhm,” he nodded slowly. “I know you have a need for everything to be _fair_ , sweetness—and trust me when I say your efforts are appreciated. But regardless of how it seems, we do understand. I know Catcher had his funky moment and he talked to me about it. _Me_. He talked it out with _me_ , Iza. He knows you don’t love him any less just because you’re out on this trip, same as I know you don’t love _me_ any less for it. You’ve gotta stop worrying so much about what’s _fair_. I think you do a pretty damn good job keeping things balanced, sweetness, all things considered.”

Iza wanted to argue that she didn’t feel like things were balanced at all. Maybe it seemed to be that way for _them_ , but for her this was not the case. She did not feel like she spent enough time with any of them and sometimes she had the selfish wish that Catcher did not have such reservations about bedding her alongside the other two. She understood that he did not share the same attractions Anakin and Obi-Wan did and she _respected_ that. But she could not help wondering if maybe things might be a little easier if he did. Still—it was not _his_ fault and she would not place the blame of her wretched feelings on him. Iza knew well enough that she only suffered this way because she could not be at home all the time and easily dole out her attention where she wanted it, or receive the attention from whom she wanted it from. All of this traveling really screwed with things. It almost made living at the Temple seem like a damn cakewalk by comparison.

“Iza?” Anakin’s voice startled her out of her thoughts. She hadn’t realized she’d been drifting. “Sweetness, I think maybe you should get out of the tub before you fall asleep.”

“Yeah,” she didn’t want to. Getting out meant having to go back into the main room and _that_ meant having to interact with Obi-Wan again. Looking up at Anakin, she poked her bottom lip out and sighed. “I really wish I could kiss you. I think I miss that more than anything.”

Anakin’s smile was soft and a little sad, but he nodded all the same.

“That’s definitely at the top of the list of things I miss the most right now.” He sighed heavily and did his best not to look so forlorn. For a moment, the two just seemed to gaze at one another longingly before Iza knelt up in the tub and lifted her hand like she meant to touch his face.

“We will still take our trip, right _cyar’ika?_ ” She swallowed hard, brushing her fingers through the blue holo when he tilted his head towards the touch as though he could actually feel it. “We do not have to go right away. I know you would like to spend time with both of us.”

“Of course, sweetness,” he nodded, hand coming up to attempt cupping her chin. “We will go whenever you want.”

Satisfied, Iza gave a small nod of her head and moved her fingers back like she intended to play with one of the soft curls curving over Anakin’s ear. Her chest tightened when she passed right through it and she clenched her jaw a little to try and keep from bursting into tears again.

“Go to bed, Iza,” Anakin whispered, looking almost as distressed as she felt. “Every time we go to sleep, we’re that much closer to seeing each other. Remember that.”

“I’m trying,” she blew out a shaky breath and shut her eyes to center herself. “I love you, Anakin. Please tell Catcher I’ll call him in the morning. I don’t know if I can handle another—”

“I’ll tell him, sweetness. He’ll understand.” He tried to smile when she looked at him again, but it wavered and faded before it could form into anything more than a soft smirk. “I love you too. Get some sleep, okay?”

“I will.” She probably wouldn’t. “Don’t stay up too late. This only works when _everyone_ sleeps, _cyar’ika_.”

 _That_ earned her a smile that warmed her belly and chased off some of the tightness that had settled in her chest. He hummed quietly before giving a relenting nod.

“I swear I’ll go to bed soon. It’s still a little early, but I don’t mind.”

“Good.” Iza tried not to sigh again before she blew him a kiss. “I love you. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Love you too, sweetness. Good night.”

Iza waited until the holo completely blinked out before she crumbled. Sinking back into the water with a sob she muffled with the back of her hand, she pulled her legs up to her chest and buried her face against her knees as her shoulders shook. She tried desperately to be as quiet as possible, going so far as to blindly pick up the towel she’d laid out so she could cry into that instead. She didn’t want Obi-Wan in here. She was sure he could already feel her misery as it was. She’d done nothing to block it off on the bond, after all, and she didn’t have the willpower to even try. Besides, it would serve him right if he felt guilty for how upset she was. Iza knew she should’ve been a little more grateful for the time alone with him that she’d been granted— _and she was_. Especially after feeling like she hadn’t had _enough_ of his time, she was most certainly _very_ grateful to have the opportunity for a solo trip that didn’t involve having to visit Lord Tyranus. But she also couldn’t help that she was homesick, or that she missed her other lovers. Obi-Wan _had_ to understand that, right? Drawing in a deep breath, she did her best to gather herself and shake off what was left of the upset in her chest before pulling the plug on the drain and carefully getting out of the tub. She gathered up the things she’d brought with her into the washroom after donning the oversized tunic again and quietly crept back out into the main room.

Obi-Wan was not here. That was fine with her. It gave her enough time to put her things away and grab a pillow and the comforter off of the bed to take with her into the side room. There was a small, boxy sofa in here that was not very comfortable to sit on but it was better than sharing a bed with someone she was upset with. It creaked when she crawled onto it and it smelled musty, like it had somehow gotten wet and never been properly dried. She tried not to let these things bother her as she wound the comforter around her shoulders and buried her head in the pillow, shutting her eyes and praying to the Force that the funny feeling leftover from the drugs would be gone by the time she woke up.

~*~*~*~

The tickle of something brushing along her cheek made Iza flinch awake. Confused and still a little fuzzy from what was left in her system, she let out a distressed little whine and tried to turn away.

“Darling,” Obi-Wan’s voice was soft in her ear. It was hard to say if he sounded concerned or not. Whining again, the brunette pulled the blanket up over her head and curled in her spot. She heard the muffled sound of him sighing before the press of a hand rested against her back. “Iza, my darling, please come to bed,”

“I _am_ in bed,” she grumbled back, wishing she had not been brought to such a level of alertness. It would take forever to get back to sleep now.

“Are you truly that upset with me?” He’d started running his hand in slow passes along her back and she could hear the frown in his voice. When she did not answer, he sighed again, heavier this time. “If you wish to sleep separately, I cannot stop you. But at least allow me to take this horrible excuse of a sofa instead.”

“No,” Iza shook her head beneath the blanket. “Let me sleep.”

“Iza, please,” cautiously, he swept his hand up and peeled the blanket back, unsurprised when the brunette let out a huff and twisted to stare at him with an irritated look on her face. “Please talk to me,”

“I have nothing more to say to you tonight,” Iza could feel the urge to grind her teeth starting to build and she did her best to fight it off. She honestly just wanted to fucking _sleep_ and be done with all of this.

“I did not intend to upset you this way, my darling,” Obi-Wan was still very wary when he reached out to touch her cheek, lightly brushing bits of hair away so he could see her better. “You must know this?”

Iza stared at him silently for a few moments, tentatively reaching out into the Force to feel her way along their bond. She did not know what she was looking for but she was sure she would know when she found it. There seemed to be some sort of hesitance in him. Thinning her lips, she narrowed her eyes and scoffed.

“What aren’t you saying?” Turning over so she was not causing such a crick in her neck, the younger woman pulled the blanket up to her chin and frowned hard. “What are you hiding from me?”

“I have spoken with Anakin,” he looked as though he didn’t want to talk about this. “I do not appreciate the two of you attempting to collude behind my back, darling. You cannot use him to pull my strings when you do not get your way. I’ve told you that this assignment is very sensitive and he must not know—”

“I’ve told him _nothing_ about Mandalore or your fucking _Duchess_.” Iza spat, scooting back until her spine was digging into the backrest of the sofa. “He’s still under the impression that I’m as much in the dark as he is.”

“You do not need to be so nasty with me,” Obi-Wan fought not to sigh again, rubbing at his brow. “I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel this way, darling. Honestly I am. If I had the choice, I would not have even brought you along for this.”

“There is always a choice, Obi-Wan,”

“Iza, this assignment involves _you_ as much as it does _me_ ,” frowning, Obi-Wan dropped his gaze for a moment like he was trying to gather his thoughts. “Tyranus was very specific that it had to be _you_ that came along and not Anakin.”

“Because he does not see Anakin as our equal. _I know_.”

“I do not know how many times I can say that I’m sorry, my girl,” again, he tentatively reached up and touched her face, still a bit surprised that she was allowing him to do so. “You are well within your right to be angry with me. I just wish you would understand that this was not _my_ decision.”

“What will _my_ final lesson be, Master Kenobi?” Iza’s voice dropped an octave as she stared at him, jaw clenching as she finally gave in to the urge to grind her teeth. “Will you order me to murder Catcher?”

“ _What?_ Darling, of course not!” He looked appalled by the mere idea. “What in blazes would make you think that?”

“ _This assignment_.”

Blinking, Obi-Wan stared at her in disbelief and slowly shook his head.

“Darling,” he swallowed, hesitating. “I made the decision on my own. My orders were to rid myself of an important attachment from my old life. Satine… _Duchess Kryze_ is all that remains of that.”

“She is still important to you?” Iza’s voice cracked when she spoke.

“Not in the way you’re thinking, my love,”

“ _Do not lie to me_ ,” the brunette couldn’t breathe. Her eyes were going blurry as she stared at him and she had the sudden need to flee from the room. She couldn’t seem to move from her spot, however. “I have read the letters you kept. The ones you hid in that book you took from me.” She looked away from him, feeling sick. “Is that why you decided to let me have you that night? Because you _knew_ I’d found them and you felt guilty?”

“I had no idea,” he whispered with a shake of his head. “I knew they were in the book at one point, but I did not know… Iza, _darling_ …”

“I want to go home, Obi-Wan,” Iza felt her head give a light twitch. “I do not want to spend another day here with you.”

“I cannot send you back,” he braced himself for some sort of physical attack. He would not blame her if she chose to do so, but he also did not want to fend off an assault. Iza was very determined when she became violent and he knew she would not stop until he was good and battered or dead on the floor. “I’m sorry, my darling.”

She stared at him for a long time, green eyes brightening until they shone gold in the dim light of the room. Sweat seemed to pour down her cheeks in tiny rivulets, soaking her hair and the blanket. Every so often, her head or her eyes would twitch. Obi-Wan had the terrible feeling that he’d knocked her back down to where they’d started from when they’d left Nal Hutta. He would be surprised if he’d be able to pull her back out again. Slowly, the brunette flipped the blanket back and began to get up from the sofa, stepping around him as she headed into the main room. Ever so cautiously, he followed. He found her standing near the bed, fingers twisting in the material of her tunic as she stared at the mattress and breathed erratically. A brow went up when she began to crawl onto its surface, stretching out onto her belly with her arms out in front of her and her hips high in the air.

“This was how you wanted me,” her tone was flat and almost foreign to his ears. “Isn’t it, Master Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan flinched, staring at her strangely.

“Iza?”

“You fucked me like a whore when you bonded me here. It’s funny—all the times I thought of you when I was alone in my bed at the Temple, I never pictured you behaving that way,” she shifted, parting her knees to widen her stance and arching her back slightly like she was waiting for him to kneel up behind her and take her. “Did you fuck her like that too? Did you make her feel like she was something _special_ with all of your attention and praise?”

“Iza, darling,”

“Did you love her the way you love me? The way you love Anakin?”

“No.” He shook his head, tone firm. Iza eyed him over her shoulder for a moment before scoffing and dropping onto her side, rolling over onto her back.

“You’re a fucking _liar_ ,” she stared him dead in the eye, trailing her fingertips up the insides of her thighs as she lightly parted her knees.

“I will not deny that I once loved her,” Obi-Wan was having a damn hard time keeping his eyes on her face. “But not the same way. She… she did not share my feelings.”

“Didn’t she?” Tilting her head, Iza pushed the hem of the tunic up over her belly and teased her fingers along the undersides of her breasts. “She seemed quite sweet on you in her letters— _Ben._ ”

He was losing focus. It reminded him vaguely of how she’d rattled him at the apartment after their last trip to Serenno. He did not know what had been awakened within her, but he was sure she did not know how to wield it properly. Or—perhaps she _did_. Perhaps all of those private moments of practice on Anakin’s mind had been enough for her to hone _whatever_ this was. Regardless, he was not fond of it.

“They are old letters, darling,” he murmured with a shake of his head. “Memories I foolishly held onto. I admit that I’d forgotten they were in that book until I saw you with it.”

“Does Anakin know?”

Obi-Wan let out a humorless laugh. Loud and dry and borderline hysterical, he dragged a hand through his hair and down over his face, looking around the room blindly. He did not understand what she was doing to his head. Fixing his gaze upon her again, he found her squirming the way she often did when he teased her to the breaking point. She was letting her fingers dance around her navel as her legs shifted against the sheets and her pretty hips twitched temptingly. Again, he lost focus on her words.

“ _Master Kenobi_ ,”

“Anakin is aware, yes,” he needed something to drink. His throat was so damn dry. There was a glass of water beside the bed, but he couldn’t seem to find the strength to move or summon it to him. _Funny_. It didn’t feel as though she was inside of his head. What the hell was she doing to him?

“My poor _cyar’ika_ ,” she cooed, poking her bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout. “I bet he played along like he wasn’t bothered. But I know him. I know his heart. It must’ve wounded him so deeply.”

“Iza…” Obi-Wan shut his eyes and shook his head when the room spun. “Darling, _please_ ,”

“Is that why you don’t want him to know? You will spare _his_ heart but not _mine?_ ”

“ _Iza_ ,”

“ ** _Look at me_** ,”

Blue eyes fluttered open and settled on the brunette. Her expression was unreadable. Her head gave a nasty twitch and she inhaled deeply, tipping her head again to nestle it against the surface of the bed.

“It doesn’t feel nice, does it?” She spoke softly, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth as the hand near her navel began moving lower. “Being lied to. Having things _hidden_ from you. It fucking _hurts_ , doesn’t it, Obi-Wan?”

“Darling I did not…” blowing out a breath, he pressed his lips together tightly and frowned. “Some things are very painful for me to share. I am not keeping secrets from you, my girl. There are no lies. I am not hiding anything from you or Anakin. I just do not see any reason to dig into old scars.”

“You have seen the worst my past has to offer, my Obi-Wan,” Iza paused and let her hand fall to the bed. “I did not _invite_ you to watch. You invited yourself.”

“I only wanted to help you, Iza,” he shook his head, stepping closer to the bed. “I had no intention on intruding.”

“You will never gain the power you seek if you do not embrace your pain, Master Kenobi,” the brunette began shifting around on the mattress again, sliding her hand along her pelvis as she smiled slowly. “You cannot steal _mine_ and expect it to work the same way.”

Something in his head _clicked_. For a moment, he stared at her in awe, watching as she moved closer and lifted a leg. He had every intention of speaking, but all that came out was a heavy moan when she pressed the ball of her foot against the front of his trousers and rubbed in slow passes.

“ _Obi-Wan_ ,” her fingers had finally made their way between her thighs and moved at the same pace as her foot. He found himself a bit dumbstruck as he watched her, growling quietly when she pressed a little harder.

“What is it, darling?” Briefly, he looked up at her face. Her eyes were still that brilliant gold, but she seemed more playful than _cold_ now. He was still going to exercise caution. He had a feeling she was more in control of this side of herself than she’d initially let on. _Wicked little thing_.

Bringing her other foot up, Iza hooked both of them behind his hips to urge him closer, whining when he didn’t budge. Pouting up at him, she pulled harder until he lost his balance and tipped forward with a weak chuckle, bracing his hands on the bed so he wouldn’t come crashing down on top of her.

“ _Mouth_ ,” she purred at him, legs sliding around his waist. Raising an eyebrow, Obi-Wan obeyed the command, opening his mouth for her. A low groan rose in his throat when she slipped her damp fingers over his tongue and he eyed the curious expression on her face as he closed his lips around them and sucked slowly. Iza’s thighs squeezed tight against his sides, her breathing picking up as she whimpered quietly. Pulling back, he gently took hold of her wrist and continued licking her taste from her fingers, humming contentedly before rutting his hips against her.

“Do you forgive me, darling?” He asked, kissing each of her fingertips before pressing one to the center of her palm. Iza let out a soft huff of a laugh and reached her free hand up to run her fingers through his hair, tilting her head before clenching them around the roots and giving a tug. Obi-Wan gave a startled sound, half moaning out of sheer reflex as he stared at her with wide eyes. Smiling, Iza leaned up and gave a lick to his bottom lip, shaking her head slowly.

“ _No_ ,” gently clamping her teeth over his lip, she tugged playfully before letting go and nuzzling her nose against his. “But I _might_ ,”

“You might?” Obi-Wan had very little experience with Iza’s dominant side. She seemed keen to use it more on Anakin than on him—perhaps on Catcher as well, though he’d never really witnessed it much. He would admit that it was quite exhilarating when the little woman got riled up enough to challenge _his_ authority over her. He supposed it was his own fault for telling her she needed to keep a bit of control for herself.

“Mhm,” loosening her hold on his hair, the brunette rubbed her fingers against his scalp to soothe it and lightly brushed her mouth over his, jerking her head back with a grin when he tried to kiss her. Giving the end of his nose a tap, she tutted softly and nipped his chin. “ _Behave_ ,”

“I’m behaving,” he insisted, unable to keep from smiling. “What is it you need from me, my darling? What will it take to earn your forgiveness?”

“You will not give me what I want,” pouting, Iza pushed her fingers through his hair again with a heavy sigh.

“I have told you, I would love nothing more than to take you home to Anakin and Catcher, my love,” he tipped his head into her touch, feeling her flex her fingers around the strands momentarily. He was partially glad she hadn’t decided to pull on it again. “I simply just _cannot_.”

“Which is why you will let _me_ decide how Satine meets her end,” slender fingers swept along the line of his jaw, nails dragging through his beard and giving a light scratch when she reached the underside of his chin. “If you truly want my forgiveness, you will grant me this. No matter how wicked, no matter how _violent_. You may have the honors since Tyranus gave you the orders, but you will do it the way _I_ want you to.”

Obi-Wan felt oddly reluctant to agree. He had already half decided how he wanted to go about this. There were still small details to work out, but he was confident he could pull it off without much fuss. He would need to rewrite the entire plan if Iza got involved more than he’d initially wanted her to be. Grunting when she grasped the ends of his beard to pull his attention back to her, he exhaled heavily and relented.

“Very well, darling,” he had a _terrible_ feeling about this. Iza was not one for _clean_ kills unless she was trying to make something quick. He did not think she would want this to be **_quick_**. “If that is what it will take, you may have it.”

“Promise?” He supposed he couldn’t blame her for the skeptical look on her face. He’d likely be just as iffy if the roles were switched. Nodding, he cautiously leaned in and pressed the center of his forehead to hers until he felt the warmth of their bond beginning to swirl in the Force around them.

“I promise,”

Iza gave a soft, pleased hum and cupped his face in her hands, planting a gentle kiss to his lips. The kiss did not stay gentle, quickly growing in depth and hunger as she pressed closer and growled quietly into his mouth. Dragging her nails along his jaw, she tightened her legs around his waist and sucked at his bottom lip when she pulled back, gazing up at him through her lashes.

“I want her to watch us,” the demand in her voice gave no room for argument. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if he’d have objected even if he wanted to. “I want to feel her heart **_break_** before you take her life. _Shatter her_ , Obi-Wan. Do it for me. For Anakin.” Giving him a sweet, affectionate look that really had no place in the middle of all this vile talk, Iza leaned up and skimmed her cheek against his. “Do it for _you_ , my darling. For the way she ripped your heart from your chest. For all the time you spent feeling _hollow_. Take your pain and _embrace_ it, Obi-Wan.”

He regarded her with something like awe at the sheer cruelty in her suggestion. While a very large part of him was appalled by the idea, he could not deny that she was stirring something deep within him that wanted very much to put that woman through the same hell he’d gone through. It would not last nearly as long as his heartache, but perhaps it would soothe _his_ soul just a fraction after all of this time. Obi-Wan had moved past it by this point—but it would still be nice to get the last laugh in, so to speak. Eyeing the brunette as that same dark, animalistic feeling he’d had when he’d bashed in Quinlan’s head began filling his chest, the older man let out a low growl and slid his hands up to tentatively cup her face.

“ _Vicious little girl_ ,” he moved in to kiss her, fully prepared to have her back away and deny him. He was pleasantly surprised when she met him halfway with one of her excited little squeals and kissed him so roughly he almost worried they might break skin. He leaned into the biting kiss, another growl rumbling in his chest as he reflexively arched his hips into her. Her sweet moan nearly unraveled him and he did it again, grunting when she snatched him by the hair again.

“What are you doing?” Iza smiled as she sucked at his bottom lip, lazily skimming her legs up and down along his sides.

“Do you not wish to play, darling?”

“Oh, I do,” easing up the grip she had on his hair, she kissed him again and nudged the heels of her feet against his lower back to pull him in tighter. “But not by _your_ rules.”

“You know I do not enjoy being bullied around the way you do, my sweet,”

“Mm,” nudging her hips up, she trailed a fingertip down his cheek and pursed her lips. “You’re _very_ hard, love. Are you _sure?_ ”

“I do not mind a little bit of aggressiveness, my dear,” a smirk lifted one end of his mustache as he leaned into the touch. “But I will not let you have the sort of power over me that I hold over you.”

“I do not want your power,” Iza shrugged, tracing her finger over his bottom lip. “But you _will_ follow my orders tonight, darling.”

“I will?”

“Unless you prefer to use your hands,” smiling a little _too_ sweetly, she shrugged and playfully tugged the ends of his beard. “You did not seem to mind much at the beginning of our trip, after all,”

He eyed her for a long moment, weighing his options silently. And then he pressed his chest into hers with a light snarl, moving over her to take up a more intimidating stance.

“You really believe you can bully me about?” A brow went up as he curled his fingers around the curve of her chin. “This is not going to go the way you think it will, my darling girl,”

Tipping her head, Iza bit the tips of his fingers sharply and narrowed her eyes. She pushed her chest up from the bed with the same low snarl he’d given, legs tightening even more around his waist until she heard him grunt.

“Just because you’re bigger than me doesn’t mean you’re stronger,” she warned, tugging his beard again. “You do not have the same frame as Catcher. You do not want to play this game with me. I will _break_ you.”

“Your threats are most _endearing_ , my sweet,” Obi-Wan smiled faintly, tightening his hold on her chin. “But your attempts at intimidation are very weak, at best.”

“Would you like to call him and ask him about the time I popped his ribs?” Iza raised an eyebrow, looking nonchalant.

“This is not a place for violence, my love,”

“Then you will have to follow my orders, won’t you?”

“This is not the way to get what you want, darling,” his smile never faltered, but the look in Obi-Wan’s eyes darkened slightly in warning. Beneath him, Iza went silent. Staring up at him like she was mulling something over, she narrowed her eyes even more and unwrapped her legs from around his waist, giving his chest a push with her hands.

“Get off me,” already she was twisting out from under him, yanking her tunic down as she moved to crawl to the other side of the bed. “You will agree to fuck me in front of that woman and kill her in the manner I wish for you to, but giving me one night of control is _too much_ for you?”

“You have not asked for anything,” Obi-Wan stayed braced against the bed, watching her carefully. He did not fully trust her while she was in this state. If he’d truly pissed her off, he did not want to be caught unguarded.

“The whole fucking _point_ is that I should not have to!” Sitting on the edge of the mattress with her back to him, Iza snarled out a breath and gripped the sheets between her fingers. “Oh— _please_ _Master Kenobi_ , _please do as I say!_ **Bantha shit**.”

“ _Mouth_ , darling,”

“ _Fuck you_ ,” getting up from the bed, Iza stomped around it—staying well out of his reach—and headed back towards the little side room. “I’m going back to bed. Have fun fucking your hand.”

“Iza,” pushing upright, he followed slowly after her, frowning deeply.

“Leave me alone,” she barely glanced back at him, plucking up the ugly blanket to wind it around her shoulders. “You got your way. We’ve resolved our argument. Just let me sleep.”

“You are still angry with me,” he kept his distance. He did not trust that look. “We have resolved nothing.”

“It does not matter. Go to bed.” Dropping onto the sofa with a grunt, Iza turned onto her side and buried her head in her pillow. When she did not hear his footsteps retreating, she exhaled on a growl and covered her head. “ _Go to bed, Obi-Wan_ ,”

Silence. Nothing but silence for a good, long minute until she heard the soft pad of his feet on the carpeting as he came closer. She had half a mind to sit up and tear him a new one for not listening to her, but all thoughts of doing so went straight out the window when she was suddenly lifted from the sofa and clumsily carried back into the next room.

“ _Hey—!_ ” Iza shouted out when she was dumped bodily onto the bed, scrambling to try and find the edge of the blanket to unravel herself. He beat her to it, peeling the layer back until she was freed. Propping herself up on her hands, she found him looming above her, knuckles braced against the bed to keep him upright as he stared down at her, still wearing that frown from before. She didn’t know what to expect from a look like that. She didn’t know what to expect _at all_ , truthfully. She and Obi-Wan had not had a clash like this since the early days of that stupid assignment. She tried hard not to have arguments with any of her lovers if she could help it, but sometimes— _sometimes_ her childish, petty side just could not help itself. Iza didn’t flinch when Obi-Wan moved suddenly, but she did draw in a quick breath that she hoped he hadn’t noticed. Thankfully, it didn’t appear as though he had.

“You are such a _brat_ , my darling girl,” kneeling at the edge of the bed, the older man gingerly took hold of her ankle and pulled her closer, turning his head to press gentle kisses along the inside of it. Moving his way up her calf, he glanced up and shook his head slowly. “You throw such horrible tantrums when you cannot have your way. I could give you the universe and you would not be satisfied if it was not the _one_ thing you truly wanted.”

“You are the one who keeps refusing me what I want,” Iza muttered, trying to pretend as though the light press of his lips on her skin wasn’t sending little shivers up her spine. Watching as he made his way up to her knee, she frowned lightly. “I accepted that I cannot go home. I do not see the issue with doling out a few tiny orders.”

“ _You_ are not the Master, my love,” smiling, he brushed his mouth higher before turning his head to kiss the other leg and work his way back down again. “I do not mind your cute little moments of aggression, but I’m not Anakin. I do not fold so easily.”

“And yet—you’re allowing me to take charge in vital areas of this assignment,” the brunette had almost growled at him for retreating. “I do not understand the logic.”

“A compromise, darling. For denying you the privilege of going home.”

Iza’s frown deepened and she pulled her leg from his grasp, watching as he looked up at her curiously. She said nothing as she stared back at him for a few minutes before letting out an indignant sound and turning to crawl away from him. Gasping when he snatched her by the foot once more, the brunette might have kicked out if he had not decided to get to his feet and cover her from behind, pressing her into the mattress.

“Where are you going?” His voice was still gentle and low, a great contrast to the almost threatening energy swirling around him. Despite this, Iza was not terribly concerned for herself. Obi-Wan had never been physically aggressive before and she doubted he’d start behaving that way now just because she was being extra bratty. If she happened to throw out their safeword and he ignored it, _then_ she would become concerned.

“You do not want me to feel like I have _any_ power,” she said quietly, twisting her fingers in the blanket. “You tell me to keep control, but you really want it all for yourself. Making me believe that you’ve allowed me to give these orders because you _want_ me to—but it’s just a compromise to shut me up.”

Obi-Wan gave a soft hum behind her, fingers coming up to brush through the hair behind her ear. He toyed with the braid _still_ plaited and decorated with beads, twisting it carefully around his fingers. After a few moments of silence, he dipped his head and peppered tiny kisses against the back of her neck, nuzzling affectionately at her ear.

“I have given you a great deal of power with this compromise, my darling,” he shifted to prop himself on an arm so he was not resting so much of his weight on her. “I understand that in your mind, killing Satine feels like removing an obstacle or what you may feel is competition. But this is a very, _very_ delicate thing, Iza. She is a _Duchess_. Her death will not go unnoticed like the cabbie. I had to put a great deal of thought into how to go about this in the first place and now I must trust that you will do the same.” Breathing out a heavy sigh, Obi-Wan lightly ran a crooked finger against the side of her cheek and bowed to kiss the spot behind her ear. “You are so quick to simplify everything when it is not laid out in front of you. This is something you must work on, my love.”

“I am a _soldier_ , Obi-Wan,” Iza wasn’t quite sure how she felt now. “Perhaps in the heat of things I act impulsively, but I rely very much on tactics and communication. Despite what you think, I am not taking this lightly.” Twisting, she waited for him to lift up enough for her to turn onto her back and face him. “You behaved as though you were yielding to me because you _wanted_ to, not because of a _compromise_.”

“But darling, I _did_ want to,” he brushed his thumb against the line of her jaw, tipping his head. “That is the difference between me saying _yes_ to those orders and _no_ to your demands to bully me.”

“It is not _bullying_ , Obi-Wan,” the brunette bit down hard on her tongue to keep from frowning, though she could not stop the way her brows furrowed in frustration. “Do you consider what you do to me _bullying?_ ”

“I have seen the way you behave with Anakin,” Obi-Wan waved a finger. “You are far more aggressive with your methods of control than I am.”

“You did not answer my question.”

“No, darling. I do not consider what I do to be _bullying_.”

“I would adjust my methods for you. That is how this works, is it not?” Iza raised an eyebrow. “You do not treat Anakin the same as you do me.”

“ _You_ enjoy the discipline. Anakin is preferential to servitude.”

“And you seem to enjoy _worship_ , my darling Obi-Wan,” bringing her hands up, Iza tentatively brushed her fingertips through his beard and pouted lightly. “You do not fool me. With your soft kisses on my skin when you know I’m upset with you and the way you put your face between my thighs until I have to beg you to stop. Even in your sleep you cling and nuzzle and put your kisses all over me. Do you truly think I would push you around and knock you out of your comfort zone, my love? When I know that ordering you to be sweet to me would give you the most joy?”

Above her, Obi-Wan made a soft, thoughtful sound. A small smile spread across his lips and she _swore_ she could see the beginnings of a flush dusting the highest points of his cheeks. It was hard to tell in the dim lighting of the room. His blue eyes searched hers for a few moments and he leaned into her touch when she reached up to brush the hair off of his forehead. His smile widened and a quiet laugh followed before he dropped his head a little. The gesture reminded her a lot of the bashful way Anakin ducked his head when she said sweet things to him. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen Obi-Wan do such a thing before. Sliding her fingers to the back of his head, she pulled him down and brushed her lips over the bridge of his nose and up to his forehead.

“You are forever my Master, Obi-Wan,” nuzzling her nose into his hair, she gently ran her nails down the back of his neck and sighed quietly. “But I feel the way you crave to be soft with me. Let me give that to you, darling.”

“I feel we have let these games go to our head,” he admitted, carefully settling himself on top of her to give his arms a rest. “But I also feel this is the only way we can maintain a sense of _normalcy_ sometimes. Your darkness is so… _labile_. This seems to be the only way to contain it.”

“You can blame Catcher,” letting out a snort, Iza rolled her eyes and shook her head. “His _therapy_ methods... nothing else worked. If I could not lose myself on the battlefield, then we would fuck until I was mindless. When the war worsened and we were called to the frontlines more often, we did not need to do that so much. I have no regrets going back to this, Obi-Wan. I’m very comfortable living this way. But it is a lot for _you_ to deal with by yourself.”

“You are… quite insatiable, darling,” Obi-Wan laughed, picking his head up to look at her. “I have stated before that I do not mind at all and I stand by it, but I often worry that I’m going to hurt you.”

“You will know when you’ve hurt me,” sliding her fingers back up into his hair, Iza hummed quietly and gently twisted the strands. “Like the belt. The belt was a lot.”

“I sincerely apologize for that, my girl,” leaning up, he kissed her chin. “I cannot begin to describe the things I was feeling earlier.”

“I understand more than you know,” the brunette only smiled and continued playing with his hair. For a while, neither of them said anything, simply gazing at one another and occasionally trading tiny kisses. Finally, Iza tilted her head at him and gave a tiny nudge with her hips. “Would you like to go to bed, darling? You look so dreadfully tired.”

“Mm,” he inhaled deeply and pushed up on his arms, giving a nod. “I suppose we should.”

Pulling him back down for a sweet kiss, Iza released her hold on Obi-Wan’s hair and slid out from beneath him. He watched her with a faint smile on his face as she made herself comfortable in the center of the bed and pulled his pillow into her arms. _Right_. She’d left hers on the sofa, hadn’t she? Giving a quiet snort, the older man stepped away to undress, reaching for his sleeping trousers when a wad of fabric hit his back. Twisting, he found Iza’s tunic at his feet and looked up in time to see the little brunette tucking herself beneath the sheets. He set the trousers back down with a tut and shut the light out, coming back over to crawl onto the bed and join her. He was quick to collect her in his arms, chuckling at the way she pretended to gasp in a scandalized manner before settling back on him.

“ _Master Obi-Wan_ ,” that sweet little tone of hers was back. It made something hot pool low in his belly and he couldn’t keep from pressing his face to the back of her neck with a groan.

“ _Darling_ , really?” He whispered, letting out a quiet laugh. Squeezing her gently around her middle, he nestled closer and playfully nipped her shoulder. “Terrible girl,”

“ _Your_ terrible girl,” turning her head to look at him in the dark, Iza nuzzled her nose against his. Behind her, he growled lowly and nodded, sliding the fingers of one hand up along her throat and giving a tiny tug to the collar she wore.

“ _Mine_.” Sealing his lips over hers in a deep kiss, he sighed into her mouth and nuzzled his way down her jaw when they broke away. He hissed under his breath when she pressed back on him teasingly, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “ _Sleep_ , darling. We will exhaust ourselves if we do this again. You may have me tomorrow.”

“Okay,” nodding, Iza kissed his forehead tenderly and reached back to run her fingers into his hair before turning over to collect him into her arms. It surprised him a little, but he did not object, snuggling into her with a content rumble.

“I love you, darling,” he murmured, kissing the side of her neck.

“I love _you_ , my Obi-Wan.”


End file.
